The Afterlife of Hector Rivera
by Boolia
Summary: My prequel of Coco. Hector dies, and enters The Land of the Dead. Takes place after he is killed, and up to the start of the movie.
1. Chapter 1

The Afterlife of Hector Rivera

Chapter 1

I woke up. I expected my stomach to once again feel great pain, but to my surprise, I didn't feel anything. It was like nothing had happened to make me black out.

I saw my amigo, Ernesto. He was leafing though something. This confused me.

"Ernesto?" I asked out loud. "What are you looking for?" He must not have heard me for he didn't respond to my question, so I tried again. "Ernesto? Again, silence. I stood up, and walked over to him. "Ernesto!" I put my hand on his shoulder, grew wide-eyed, and gasped. Instead of my hand, it was a skeletal hand! What the...? I looked at my other hand. It was another skeleton hand. I looked down at my whole body and feet. My fear was confirmed. I was a skeleton, glowing all over from head to toe. But if I was a skeleton...oh no!

No, no, no, no, no, no, I can't be dead; I just can't be! I have a wife at home. And a daughter, a sweet, little, innocent, loving three-year-old, my Coco. She's counting on me to come home. She and the other love of my life, her mama, my other girl, Imelda. What will they think if I don't come home? Imelda might think I cheated on her. She'll hate me for eternity.

Okay, Hector, you're overwhelming yourself. Just breathe (or not) and relax. Ernesto will tell them the sad news of me being dead, tell them I was trying to come home to them, and everything will be fine. They can't hate me then, right? He's my friend, and amigos help their amigos. I have every bit of confidence in him to come through. We've been friends for years. He'll never betray me. Good ol' Ernesto!

I then saw what Ernesto was looking at, and gasped. It was my songbook. Why was Ernesto looking through my songbook? I saw the song that he was looking at, and grew sad again. It was 'Remember Me', the song I wrote for Coco, and what she and I sang every night before I left.

I will never be able to sing it with her ever again. I'll never feel the tender touch of her little hands on my face. I'll never be able to kiss my two girls, never will see Coco's first day of school, never will see her be an adult, never see her marry the man of her dreams. I'll miss out on everything!

Then from the corner of my eye, I saw a coati (a member of the raccoon family). But what was a coati doing here in Santa Cecilia? It looked at Ernesto, then at me. I watched as the creature went towards me. It stopped, looked up at me with its eyes, and chirped. It went off again, confusing me. Huh? That was weird. What was that about? Wait, can that coati see me?

The coati looked back at me, and chirped again. Does it want me to follow it? When the coati chirped again and again, over and over, I decided to follow it. That and Ernesto was getting pretty annoyed by it.

"Shoo; shoo!" He said to the mammal. "Get out of here, skedaddle!" I went after it, and the coati led me away, but not before making sure I still had my photo in my pocket. I did.

For some reason, my photo was in my pocket when I left. (I was in the same clothes that I died in.) I don't know why it ended up there. Maybe Coco or Imelda for some reason wanted me to have it. I was so glad I had it now so I could look back on my human form.

I saw my lifeless human body on the ground, gasped, but kept following. Ernesto will take care of it.

As I was following the furry creature, it reminded me of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I was Alice, and the coati was the white rabbit. But the question was why was I following it? It wasn't like it had the ability to talk and had a pocket watch, does it? Was it leading me to someplace magical and strange? No, that would be loco, and I was loco to be thinking about it.

The coati led me to the Pantheon Santa Cecilia, the local cemetery. I was puzzled. Why would the coati lead me here? Did the coati lead me here on purpose, or did it just lead me here just because? I had no idea.

I wanted to leave, and get out of this place, thinking that this might be a little disrespectful, but couldn't for some reason. I just kept on the coati's tail.

"Where are you leading me, little guy?" I asked the animal. "Huh? Why the cemetery? Don't you think that this might be a little morbid? Now, come on. Let's get out of here, and leave these people to mourn their lost loved ones in peace." The coati then stopped, and looked up at me. I stopped too, and smiled. "That's a good coati." He went to my side, and butted me forwards. "Whoa, what do you think you're doing? This is not okay!" I stopped in my tracks, and looked down at him, mad. "We're leaving now!" He butted me one last time. I lost my balance, and fell in a pile of marigold petals that for some reason were all over the ground.

I lifted my head, and spat out one that went into my mouth. I stood up, and looked around. This was unfamiliar territory to me. This isn't beyond the cemetery. Where am I? I looked at my hand. Why wasn't it glowing like it was seconds ago?

I then saw the coati again, chirping to get my attention. I looked down at it, irrttitated. "What are you looking at? Where have you led me?" The coati bounded off again. "There you go again. Come back here!" Once again, I followed it.

I then stopped. Wait, what am I doing?! Why am I still following this animal? I don't have to. I have free-will. I can stop and go back if I want to. In fact, that is just what I was going to do. I turned around, and was about to go back when the darned creature bit my ankle. I yelped, looking angry at him.

"Quit it! Wherever you're leading me to. I'm not interested. Gosh, can't you take a hint?!" I realized something. Wait a minute. I'm dead, so how can this very much alive coati even touch me, and not go through me? "What are you?" The coati bounded off again.

Something caught my eye. I saw buildings in the distance. Buildings I don't recognize in the least. I then saw more buildings, and realized that a city was in front of me. What is this place? I swear this wasn't here before. I was curious, so I walked a little further.

I then saw somebody, but not just anybody, a skeleton just like me. I got his attention.

"Excuse me." I said to him. "But, where am I? What is this place?" He looked at me as if I've gone loco.

"This is the Land of the Dead." He stated.

"The Land of the Dead?" I questioned. "There's such a place that exists?" He nodded.

"I see you're new here." He pointed north. "You want to first go to The Department of Family Reunions. They'll get you where you need to go to."

"The Department of Family Reunions?" He nodded and told me on how to get there.

"Got it?" He asked when done. I nodded.

"Si, but..." I began, but he began to leave. "No, wait, I..."

"The Department of Family Reunions will tell you all you need to know and more."

"Yeah, I know, but..." I sighed when he was out of earshot (or whatever.) I decided to give this place a chance, and see what it's about. So, I went off in the direction that he described.

I entered the building. It was crowded with skeletons everywhere, going about their businesses. I went up to a skeleton behind a counter. I noticed another coati, only this time it was an alebrije, only it wasn't art. It was a real animal.

"I hear this place can help me?" I questioned her. She looked at me.

"And you are?" She asked.

"I'm new here. I just died. I'm Hector Rivera." She petted the abebrije.

"Good job in bringing him here, Senti. Good, good alebrije." I could tell that Senti really liked what she was doing. I was about to ask about him when she looked at me, and spoke.

"Cause of death? You look young."

"Si. I ate a bad chorizo. I was 21." She looked sorry for me.

"Gosh, that's a bummer."

"Yeah, it was. I had a family. A wife and a three-year-old girl."

"Well, I'm sorry about that." She smiled. "Welcome to the Land of the Dead. You'll learn to love it here." I sighed.

"Yeah, wish I haven't died though."

"We all wish that. But unfortunately, death comes for all of us whether we're prepared or not. No one can escape it."

"I know, but I was trying to come home. My wife was mad at me that I left. What will she think when I don't return?" The lady shrugged.

"Don't know what to tell you. We can't go back to the Land of the Living. No one down here can. We have to wait for the next Dia de Muertos to cross the bridge." I was shocked.

"Wait, dead love ones can really cross back to the Land of the Living?" The lady nodded. "Wow, I knew I felt their presence, but I never knew they were literally there."

"Oh yeah they were there. They always had. You weren't dead before, so you didn't know. Now you will see what's being dead is all about."

"I guess I will." I was then excited. "Man, I can't wait to see them again!"

"If they put a picture on the ofrenda that is." I was confused again.

"What?"

"Oh, weren't you told? If your picture's not on the ofrenda, then..." I stopped her.

"I know. But this is December. We have eleven more months until November. That's plenty of time. Of course they will put my picture up."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure. Why wouldn't they? Even though I'm dead, I'm still family."

"So true. And in speaking of family, let's locate yours. Do you know someone in your family who had died before you?" I frowned at this.

"My brother."

"And how did he die?"

"The Mexican Revolution."

"Age?"

"Well, he died when I was ten, and he eighteen, so..."

"They stay the same age that they died at, sir. So, he'll still be 18."

"Really? So, I'm older than him. I'll be forever 21. Weird. I always wanted to be older, but thought that was impossible."

"What's his name?"

"Emilio."

"Okay, I'll go look for him then. Can you sit down and wait? It won't be long." I saw some chairs behind me, and nodded. I went over, and sat down on one as the lady did her work. Senti came over to me, laid down at my feet, and waited with me. I reached down to pet him.

When I learned about Emilio's dealth, I was devastated. Everyone else was too in the family, but it hit me the hardest. No matter what they said, I just couldn't get over the loss. I looked up to him. He was my whole world to me. I didn't want him to go off to war because he'll die, and my fear came true.

I hated war then, and it grew from then on. I refused to be drafted. Even though, I knew it was for my country, I didn't understand how one person would want to destroy another person's life.

I hated murderers with a passion, and I still do. Santa Cecilia unfortunately has some that you hear every year, and they're sad. Why would they do that to someone else? They have absolutely no right! Don't they know that their victims have families, friends, and lives? Why so much hate? Why can't people get along? I just don't understand.

That's why we're teaching Coco to love everyone, and have respect even though you can't stand them, and they can still be jerks. That's no reason to want to murder them. There's no excuses! It just makes me mad. I'm sure Imelda is still teaching her as she grows older.

I took out the photo, and looked at it. I have lived from 1900-1921. Too young to die. I was in my prime.

Some time later, I heard a voice that I never thought I'd hear again. I saw Senti leaving, feeling like he was no longer needed or something.

"Hector?" The voice asked. I looked at him, and although it's been eleven years, and he was a skeleton now, I instantly recognized him. I jumped to my feet, and ran up to hug him.

"Emilio! I never thought I'd ever see you again."

"Me neither, brother. But, how are you here? How did you bite the dust?" I told him everything, including my marriage to Imelda, and Coco. I also told him that Ernesto was by my side when I died.

"That's awful!" He said when I was done. I nodded in agreement. "Luckily, Ernesto was there. You two were the best of friends when you were kids, always hanging out together." I nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry, little brother. Man, it's weird saying that now considering I've been 18 for eleven years. You must be 21 by now." I nodded again. "Freaky!" He frowned. "I'm so very sorry it has to be this way, Hector."

"Thanks. So am I. But poor Coco. She's so young. She now has to grow up without her Papa."

"Well, she'll have one again if Imelda remarries."

"Yeah, but he would never be her true Papa."

"Very true. No one can replace you, Hector."

"I know, right? I'm irreplaceable!" I frowned again. "But poor Imelda. She must be so heartbroken! She and Coco both. This isn't fair for them both. This isn't fair for me either. No one should have to go through such pain, not in life, not in the afterlife, not ever."

"I hear you, but like life, the afterlife's not fair. Death is inevitable." He changed the subject. "So, since you just arrived here, I Imagine you'll need a place to stay. How about my place?" I looked at him, not believing what I was hearing.

"Really?" He nodded.

"Really."

"Seriously?"

"I'm dead serious. Pardon the pun." I smiled, wiped away a happy tear, and hugged him again.

"Oh, gracias, gracias, gracias!"

"No problem, bro. I love you, always had, and always will."

"Me too; I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." We then withdrew from each other, and my brother changed the subject again.

"Shall we go to my place now?"

"Yes; I want to see your pad."

"This is the place." Emilio announced when were in front of his house. I marveled at it.

"It looks nice." I told him. "Really homey."

"Thanks, and it is. You can stay here as long as you need to."

"Thanks, I really appreciate this. You're really saving my lif...er, afterlife here." He walked towards the house. I followed him.

"Tomorrow we can find you a job." I was puzzled.

"Job?"

"Yeah, how else can we make a living?"

"Uh, I didn't think the dead could really do that."

"Well, we do. It'll just be like the living world except not." He looked at me. "Hey, I have an idea. You still like music, don't you? You can be a musician or something."

"I don't think so." He was confused.

"But you loved music. You sang ever since you could talk."

"Well, I don't want to be a musician. I was one, and I don't want to be one anymore. It tears away what's really important, families." He was confused again.

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't mind, I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay, I respect you on that. So, what job did your wife have?"

"She was in the shoe making business."

"That's cool. What do you want to be?" I thought about this.

"I don't know."

"Don't fret, you can sleep on it."

"Wait, the dead still have to sleep?" Emilio nodded.

"They don't just rest, they rest in peace."

"Okay, I guess I saw that coming. So, you have everything that the living world does?" He thought about this for a second before speaking again.

"We don't have bathrooms down here." I thought of something.

"But how can...?" I realized something. "Makes sense."

"PAPA!" My three-year old Coco shouted as soon as I came home. I was back in and living among the Land of the Living once again.

"Coco!" I said right back, and scooped her up in my arms. I saw Imelda then. She was smiling.

"I thought you'd never come back." She stated.

"Are you loco, amour? Of course I came back. I was homesick. I'll never leave my family ever again. They're too important to me."

"You better not." She kissed me.

"I won't. I learned my lesson, and never will forget it." I kissed her right back, "You have my word. I promise."

"Papa?" Coco asked. "Can we sing that song again when I go to bed?"

"Oh, I don't know." I pretended to think.

"Papa!"

"Si, anything for you, little one." I then tickled her. She laughed. She then hugged me.

"I love you, Papa." I smiled.

"I love you too."

I woke up...dead. I noticed I was dead when I looked down at my arms, legs, feet, and body. They were all nothing but bones. I sighed. It was just a dream. I so wanted it to be real. Why did I have to wake up?

"Oh good, you're up!" I heard Emilio say. "Come downstairs, and I'll get you some breakfast." I looked at him.

"We still need to eat? I mean I know we offer it for the dead to eat but...never mind."

"Yes, we eat, we drink; there's a lot of stuff you need to learn about the afterlife."

"I know there's no bathrooms. You told me that."

"Si, but that's just the start. There's so much more."

First we got on a trolly (magically operating without tracks), and went on a tour of all the interesting sights of all the places to see and do in the Land of the Dead. I was amazed at everything that the tour guide told us about. I was so amazed by the tour that I might consider being a guide someday. First I have to know everything about this place, every nook and cranny. Well, maybe not every nook and cranny, that'll just be a bonus.

Then we went to find me a job. We looked all over, but in the end, I decided that I wanted to sell tacos after eating tacos at 'the greatest taco place in town'. I couldn't agree more. The tacos were muy good, so was the tequila! And, si, the churros were to die for!

After getting me a job at Carlo's Loco Tacos, we went shopping for new clothes. I have to look good for my first day on the job, and everyday after that. Imelda says that, and when she's right, she's right. I learned by being her husband never to judge her judgement no matter what. Because I know from past experiences not to be on her bad side; ever!

I got an indigo jacket, a red tie, red, black, and white suspenders, and light brown and black pinstriped pants. I also got a straw hat; it was nice! I didn't need it, but It was still a nice hat!

I got the job, and worked there day after day. I was a waiter. I saw so many dead people, chatting about their lives, back when they were alive, and not. I really liked it; they had some interesting things to say. I never knew the dead could be so alive!

"See you tomorrow, boss." I said to my boss, Carlos, one day at the end of the workday.

"Hector." Carlos said. "You know we're off tomorrow, right?" I looked at him.

"Why?"

"It's Dia de Muertos. Did you forget?" I felt ashamed. How could I forget?

"Si."

"That's okay. It's better to know now then come tomorrow only to discover the door locked and a sign posted on it." I laughed lamely.

"Yeah, good thing! Emilio would remind me though."

"You're still living with him?"

"Yeah, he's family, and I feel at home there." He nodded.

"Makes sense."

"Yeah it does."

"And with that note, see you on the 3rd!"

"Yeah, see you!" I then went home.

On the bus ride home, I kept pestering everybody I saw about what I was planning to do, that it was my first time ever on the other side, and how excited I was. I might of gotten on their nerves, and I felt sorry for that, but I just couldn't help myself! I also almost got banned, but explained to the driver that I was just so excited, and vowed never to do it again.

After my siesta to ready myself to see my family, I ran to his Emilio's bed who was still having his, got on, and bounced and bounced on it like an excited nino at Christmastime.

"Get up, big brother!" I said. "It's the greatest day of my afterlife, Dias de Muertos! Aren't you happy for me. Get up, get up, get up!"

"Can't it wait five more minutos, Hector?" A still sleepy Emilio asked. "Our family has waited a whole year, they can wait a while longer."

"I'm sorry, brother. But no can do. I can't wait any longer. The sooner, the better!" He sighed, and got out of bed.

"Why I let you stay here is I have no idea."

"Because I'm your familia, and you love me very much?"

"Si, okay, just let me have a few minutes to get ready, can you do that?"

"Si, I can do that, but I won't like it very much, but for family, we have to make sacrifices!"

"Hurry, Emilio!" I called after him running behind the line of skeletons getting ready to cross the bridge to their live decedents. "Prisa; vamonos!"

"I'm getting there as fast as I can." He said, then stood behind me in line. "You might be older then me, but considering you still act like a kid, that's proof that you will and aways be my kid brother."

"Adults are still kids." I explained to him. "They're just in disguise because that's what time in the living word does to you."

"Right. After all of these years, you still think you're smarter than me."

"Next!" The agent called out, and the next person went up.

"I'm next!" I said in a singsong manner to Emilio even though he already knew. Emilio rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed by me, but was happy for me just the same.

"Next!" The agent called again.

"That's ME!" I singsonged to Emilio again. Once more, he did an eye roll, but smiled. I walked up to the agent.

"I'm Hector Rivera." I greeted her. "This is my first time, and I'm so excited, can't you tell?"

"Uh-huh!" She agreed, not too thrilled. "Have a nice visit, senor!" And with that, I ran onto the bridge.

I ran and ran, but as I ran, my feet began to sink in. Huh? What's happening to my feet? Why am I sinking? I didn't care. I just kept on trying and trying.

I was on the ground now, trying to move forwards. I must of looked really stupid, flailing like a fish. Emilio came to me. He shook his head, feeling sorry for me. He grabbed me, and helped me up.

"What's going on, Emilio? Why can't I cross? Why can't I see my family?"

"Aw, Hector. No one put up your photo. You can't cross over."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"What?" I questioned.

"I said..." Emilio started, but I interrupted.

"No, no, I know what you said, but that's impossible."

"No, it isn't because..." I held up my hand.

"Stop. I know. I'm saying it's impossible because why wouldn't they put up my

picture? I've been dead since December. It's been eleven months, so why no photo? I have a photo of myself at your house, but I have more pictures of me back in Santa Cecilia, so why? It doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hector. My apologies, but..." I got an idea.

"Maybe they forgot, and are doing it as we speak."

"I kind of feel that's wishful thinking."

"I feel it is too, but I'm trying it anyways..." So I tried crossing over again with the same result. Emilio walked over to me.

"Like I said, wishful thinking." He offered to help me up and I accepted it.

"Maybe it's early, and they have a late start. Maybe they'll put my picture up later today."

"Possible, but a bit unlikely I'm afraid. All of Mexico knows of this holiday, heck even other countries know we celebrate it, so they wouldn't likely forget." I sighed.

"You're right. But they might've. I died near the end of last year, so they might not think of me gone yet, no that's stupid, I was there every day before I went on tour with Ernesto. But I still have a very little chance, but a little chance is better then no chance at all. Maybe now. I'm going to try again." I tried again with the same effect. "Maybe I'll try later in the day."

"Hector, I love you, I really do. Don't hurt yourself. Go home. I'm going to my family. See you soon." I sighed again.

"See you soon." And with that, he left. I watched him go along with other skeletons crossing the bridge, all except me.

"Señor!" I heard the agent call. "You can't stay there forever. You're blocking the way."

"Right. Sorry." With one last look, I left as well.

As I was riding the bus home (I was the only passenger), I thought of Imelda and Coco, and when I told them I was going on tour with Ernesto.

"You're making a big mistake, Hector." Imelda had said the night before I left. "I can't believe you're leaving us. What about Coco? She's three. I can't take care of her on my own. What about me? What about family?"

"Imelda," I had told her. "I'm not leaving forever. I'll come back. I'll still be in your and Coco's lives. In the meantime, I'll write letters."

"They won't be the same."

"I'll return home. I promise."

"Yeah, well, I still think you're making a huge mistake." I felt bad as she had her hands folded across her chest. I didn't really know what else to say to her, so I just kissed her, and left her to her sulking.

As I passed by Coco's room, I heard her sad sniffles. I looked, and walked into her room. She sat on her bed.

"Aw, don't cry Coco." I said to her. "You know it breaks my heart when you do." She looked up at me.

"Do you have to go, Papa?" She asked. "I don't want you to. I want you to stay here with me and Mama forever."

"I know you do." I wiped away her tears. "But Ernesto wants me to go on tour with him, and I don't want to disappoint."

"I want to go with you."

"But you have to stay here with Mama. I'll be doing important music stuff with Ernesto. I'll have no time with you or Mama if you both came. You don't want that. You two are better off here. Mama can work, and you can play with the other kids. I told your Mama I'll be back. It won't be forever, Coco."

"I know, but I can't wait that long." I frowned. It really saddens me to see my little girl upset. I thought of something. "Hey, I know we sang this song hundreds of times before, but why not again? For ol' times sake?" That cheered her up.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, don't move." She giggled as I went to Imelda and my bedroom to get my guitar.

The next morning, I had my guitar packed, and everything else that I needed in my suitcase. I was all ready to meet Ernesto at the train station.

"Papa, wait!" Coco raced in for a hug, "Don't go yet! Not without my goodbye kiss and hug!" I picked her up.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I said, and kissed and hugged her.

"Are you sure you still want to go?" Imelda, who had come to my side, asked. "It's not too late to back out." I looked at her, and put Coco back on the floor.

"Ernesto's waiting for me." I told her. I kissed her. "I cannot just not show up. I have to go. I'll be back when the tour's over."

"Adios, Papa!" Coco said to me. I smiled down at her.

"Adios, Coco." I looked back at Imelda. "Adios, Imelda. I'll write to you and Coco tonight, and every night." I then left before Imelda could say any more. I heard Coco calling her farewells to me over and over. I looked back, and did the same until I decided enough was enough, and resumed on walking forwards again.

"Is this seat taken?" I was transported back into reality, and looked up at an elderly skeleton. A hat was on his head.

"No," I replied, and let him sit next to me.

"Gracias." He thanked me. "I figured you were the only one here, considering you seem to be the only other passenger on this bus, but figured I'd ask anyways. I had a hard Dia de los Muertos, and it's not even seven yet, heck, it's not even six thirty."

"Not as hard as me I bet." He chuckled.

"Hard to imagine that. You look young, and it's Dia de Muertos."

"It would be one year in December since I passed."'

"I died in a mine explosion in 1899."

"That's the year before I was born."

"Is it now? So you are young! In your twenties I reckon."

"21."

"Well, I''m not going to say how old I am. Let's just say I'm way older, then you."

"Fair enough." I offered him my hand."I'm Hector." He shook it.

"I'm Chicharron. Anyways, it must be nice being young, seeing lots of relatives who remembers you." I frowned at this.

"That's where you're wrong. I wish that were true, but it's not. That's why I'm having a tough Dia de Muertos." He looked at me, not believing what I just said. And I don't blame him. I still don't believe it myself.

"What? Come on, that can't be right. A young man such as you must have at least two hundred family members still living."

"I do. It's just that nobody in my entire family put up my photo on the Ofrenda."

"But you said you died last December, so..."

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't make any sense why no one put up my photo. My amigo, Ernesto, saw me die from food poisoning as we were going to the train station to take me home from being away for months. We were musicians."

"I see."

We talked a bit more about our past lives, until Chicharron had to go. It was interesting.

On my way home, I saw a line of little girls led by a woman. One of them was...

"Coco!" I shouted. I ran as fast as I could, and scooped her up in my arms, hugging her. "Oh, Coco." The little girl who I held was yelling, but I didn't care. I was just glad to have her in my arms again. "Oh, Coco! Papa promises to never ever leave you again. Family comes first. I know that now.".

"Let go of her!" The woman shouted. I looked at her.

"But this is my daughter, miss. I'll never let her go ever again."

"No, she's not. Both of her parents are still alive."

"What are you...?" I then saw the little girl in my arms. She clearly didn't look like Coco. "Oh." I put her down on the ground. "Sorry. I thought she was someone else."

"Well, she's not!" The woman looked at the little girl. "Are you alright, Camilla?"

"Yes." The girl answered.

"Good. Now let's see Mama and Papa. That'll make you feel better." Camilla cheered up, and went back in line, and she and the other kids followed the woman. I looked at the building that they came out of. It was an orphanage, only instead of it being kids who parents are gone, it was dead children whose parents are still alive in the living world.

Poor children! And those poor parents in the living world having to go on without their kids. Parents should die first, not the other way around. But I know it doesn't always work like that. I'm kind of glad now that it's me down here, and not Coco. I can't imagine her here now, alone and scared, in an orphanage, and us up in the Land of the Living, and other kids we might have had. Though I want her in my arms again, she should live her life for as long as she can.

When I came home, I sat on the couch, and looked at the photo of me in my past life. I was stupid! Why did I leave Santa Cecilia? Why did I drop out of college to pursue music? Why did I listen to Ernesto? He wanted fame and fortune, not me. And I had to pick the bad chorizo, eat it, and pay the ultimate price for ditching my family. If I haven't done all of that, I wouldn't be here, wondering what could have been. I didn't feel like going back to try again for some reason.

Hours later, Emilio came home. I expected him to brag how his visit went, but he didn't. He probably didn't because he knew I would feel bad, and it would, but still it would be nice to know.

"So, how did your visit go?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't want to make you feel bad, Hector."

"I know you don't, and I appreciate that, but how did it go? Was it good or bad? You were gone a long time, so I'll say good. You don't have to tell me the details."

"I saw Mama and Papa."

"And? How are they?"

"Good."

"Good. They were good grandparents to Coco, and I imagine they still are. Coco loves them, and I know Coco would've loved her Tito Emilio too." Emilio smiled.

"Thanks, Hector. I wish I was a great father like you."

"I know you would've made a great one."

"Thanks, again." He then frowned. "I wonder what happened to Violeta." I frowned as well. Violeta was his girlfriend. They met and fell in love in high school. She fully supported him going off to war. She agreed to marry him when he got back from war, of course, that sadly never happened.

"She's good." I just said. I didn't mention that she got married herself. He didn't want to tell me about his visit to spare my feelings of me not having a chance to visit my family. I wanted to return the favor.

"I imagined she married someone else, right?" I just stayed silent, not wanting to lie, not wanting to tell the truth. "Hector, tell me. You don't need to hide it. Did she marry someone else or not? Look, I know you're not telling me to spare my feelings, and I appreciate it, but there's no need to. I'll understand. I'll get over it. I just want her happy. Tell me. Hector."

"Si, she got married to someone else." He got sad.

"Oh."

"I made you upset. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

"No. I'm glad you told me. I want to know. It's 'til' death do us part' if we were married. At long as he makes her happy is all that matters to me."

"He does. Last time I saw them, she was pregnant with their first baby." He looked like he just got punched in the stomach. "Are you okay?" He nodded.

"Si. If she's happy, so am I. She deserves it. I was just being paranoid." I understood. I can't imagine Imelda with another man, and Coco with a new Papa. I just can't picture them with another family. But I have to be strong. If Coco and Imelda are happy, so am I. Just because my life ended, doesn't mean theirs has to. I can't imagine it, but if that's the way it has to be, then so be it. I just want the very best for them.

"Hector, you okay?" Emilio wanted to know.

"Yeah. I'm alright." Emilio smiled.

"You know, they'll be alright. No need to fear. They, too, deserve to be happy." I smiled back.

"I know. I know they will."

"I know they will be too, same for Violeta, her husband, and future kid or kids."

The next day, Carlos asked me how my holiday was. I told him, and he felt sorry for me. People kept on talking about how their day was yesterday. I was jealous, but I didn't let it get to me. I faked my smilies, and did my job. Carlos noticed, and asked if I was going to be alright I told him that I was, He asked if I needed time off. I declined the offer, and told him I'll work, and I did. He never bothered me about it again.

After work on the bus ride home, I saw Chicharron again. He sat down next to me.

"So?" He asked. "How did today go? Were talks about their live relatives all people could talk about today?"

"Yeah." I answered. He clearly has been though this time and time again.

"They do that. It's like they have no idea that, people like us, lead different lives. They just assume we do the same things that they do. I just ignore them, and pretend to be happy for them. After all, there's nothing we can do."

"I ignored them too, and just kept to myself."

"Good."

"I just don't understand why this happened in the first place, you know? I died last December. They had eleven months to realize I wasn't coming home."

"Who knows? Maybe your friend didn't tell them that you were dead." I just looked at him. He had complely gone loco. This got me mad.

"Ernesto's my friend!" I snapped. "He may not have been a family man himself, but he knew I loved my family, so he would've told them, as hard as it may be." Chicharron put his hands up in defense.

"I'm sorry I offended you, Hector. I'm just stating the facts. It could be a possibility. Friends may turn on each other. They change over time."

"Not Ernesto. He was going to be my amigo for life! He would never go so low, and betray me like that."

"How do you know he was going to be your friend for life? You can't see the future, nobody can. I'm sorry, Hector, but..." I then had enough.

"Leave!"

"Uh, I can't get off until we get to my stop." I huffed.

"Fine, then sit far away from me." He got up from his seat.

"Okay, but I just want to say that I'm sorr..."

"Leave, I don't want to see you in my afterlife ever again." He looked like he would've said more, but he just sighed, and went off.

"You okay, Hector?" Emilio asked after I slammed the door as soon as I come home. "You slammed the door, so you seem pretty steamed. Mind telling me about it?" I didn't really want to, but knew that once I told him, I would feel better, so I did.

"I'm sorry about that." Emilio said when I was finished. "He had no right to tell you that, but he may have a point." I was shocked.

"You're taking his side?" I questioned.

"No. I'm just agreeing to that friends do change. What friend you made when you were five could not be your friend any more. As you grow, the way you see things changes too. It's kind of sad, but it's the truth." He then noticed my mad glare at him. "But I'm sure Ernesto's not like that. I'm sure he told your family as soon as he possibly could, why your photo wasn't up, I have no clue." I didn't buy it.

"I can't believe you're on his side." I just said to him.

"I'm not. I didn't say. All I said was..."

"You may not have said you were, but I know you are when you agreed to him."

"Look, Hector, I..."

"I want to be alone. I don't want to talk about this any more."

"But..." I left before he could continue. He didn't stop me.

I decided to go to the bar to help calm me down. When I got there, I went to sit down.

"One tequila, por forvor." I said to the bartender.

"Right away, señor." He started, then started mixing. Someone then took the barstool next to me.

"Give me the usual, Mateo." He said to the bartender. He nodded at him.

"So, how was the concert, Gustav?" Mateo asked as he gave me my drink.

"Oh you know." He said to him. "Same old, same old. We had a full house!"

"Oh that's good."

"Si, it was." Mateo gave Gustav his drink, and he took a sip, then sighed. "Aw, that's good stuff."

"I used to be a musician." I said to him. He looked at me.

"You were?"

"Yeah, I was."

"What made you quit?"

"I died."

"No way! Well, hate to tell you this, but we all are. That's why we're here. But I loved music so much that I continued to be one in the afterlife."

"I don't think I will be. My heart's not in it anymore."

"Oh, that's too bad. My heart is, and, will always be in music."

"I still like music, don't get me wrong on that. I just don't want to make music anymore."

"Okay, Whatever."

"Here's your chorizo." Mateo said to Gustav, giving him his pork sausage.

"Yum!" He stated, and started eating it. "Man, I love chorizos; so nice and spicy!" He looked at me. "Chorizos is the best food in the whole world." He said to me. "No doubt about it. You agree?"

"It's pretty tasty." I admitted. Then I muttered under my breath. "Unless you die from it."

"What? What did you say?"

"I said that they were tasty.."

"No, no, after that. It was so soft that I didn't hear it."

"It's nothing."

"No, it's something all right. Otherwise, why would you say it at all?"

"It's not important."

"Okay." He resumed drinking. I sighed.

"I said 'unless you die from it.'" I explained. He looked at me again.

"What are you..." I could see the gears working in his head. "Wait, did you choke on a chorizo?" I didn't want to say it, but I did anyway.

"No. It was food posening." He burst out laughing. "What? It's not funny. Quit it!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't stop. I never met anyone who was foolish enough to eat a bad chorizo."

"Well, congratulations. I am the foolish enough person to do it. I just ate a bad one, okay?"

"I'll say! This is too good; I have to tell my friends."

"No, you don't have to." He called his friends. They came over to us. I groaned, and did a facepalm.

"What it is, Gustav?" One of them asked.

"Get this," Gustav stated. "This guy died by eating a bad chorizo."

"Really?"

"Yeah, poor sap, right?"

"Poor sap is right!" He laughed with his friends. I rolled my eyes. Why is my death so funny to them? I didn't get it, and feel like I never will. I should've kept my mouth shut. I jumped to my feet, mad.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" I exploded. They all looked at me.

"Look, we're sorry if we offended you." Gustav said. "But, you have to admit, it was pretty funny."

"No, it's not! Laughing about death, or someone's misfortune is not remotely funny. It's downright disrespectful!

"Chill, man. You have to learn not to take everything so seriously. You have to look at the humor in things. Don't be so sent..."

"I do like to see the humor in things, but I didn't see any humor in that. I came here to cheer myself up after a fight with a friend and my brother, but you and you buddies made it a lot worse."

"Hey, you said you ate the chorizo. So, it's kind of your fault."

"You know what? I don't need this." I finished my drink. "I'm going home." And with that, I stormed off, but not without putting the money on the counter, and called Mateo to take it.

The next morning, and all thoughout breakfast, I didn't talk to my brother, not even when he tried to convince me to.

"Please, Hector." Emilio pleaded. "You can't stay mad at me forever." He sighed when I didn't make a noise. "Whatever! Maybe tonight."

At work, I overheard some people chatting about their former friends in life. They each said they made them when they were all really young. However, as they grew older, so did their interests. They were so different that time forced them to drift apart. I was so saddened by this that I walked over to their table.

"Don't you miss them?" I asked. They all looked at me, so shocked by my sudden question.

"Yeah, we do." The woman answered. "It's a shame that we're not together anymore, but you know, that was life. Every good thing has to come to an end, and we had that. You have to hold on to those moments, and the time you had with them, because you never know when things will change."

I mulled this over as they continued talking to each other. And I suppose she's right. This made me remember the time when I was sixteen, and in school, my friends and I invited a 15-year- old to our table due to a huge fight he had with his friend the previous night.

"Thanks, ladies." I said to them. They all looked at me again. "You made me realize something. Enjoy your meal." I let them be.

I hoped to see Chicharron on the bus ride so I could apologize, but I didn't. I didn't see him in the morning either. Either he was avoiding me because I was mad at him, and said I didn't want to see him ever again, or of the crowds of people riding the bus, or something else. The best thing about being dead is you can't get sick, ever, so that was no excuse for Chicharron's absence. Oh well, at least Emilio will be able to accept my apology.

"Emilio." I said to him at home. "I'm sorry about the other night. Friends do not always stay together, not even the best of friends. I know that now."

"That's okay, Hector." Emilio said back. "I accept your apology. Have you apologized to Chicharron yet?"

"No, I haven't seen him."

"You will. It's never too late to say you're sorry."

Years went by with me trying to cross the bridge with my brother and the other spirits. I failed each and every time. No one put up my photo. I didn't understand. I knew Imelda was upset that I didn't come home, but was she that angry with me? Was Coco angry with me too? I needed answers, and I wasn't getting any.

Coco was growing up. She was no longer the sweet, innocent little girl that I left. She was now becoming a woman.

"Are you ready to see if you can cross the bridge yet?" Emilio asked me one Dias de Muertos.

"No." I just said. "I decided to give up." He looked at me, surprised.

"What? You never gave up before after all of these years, so why now? I don't get it."

"I should've gave up long ago, but instead it was disappointment after disappointment, year after year. Coco's a grown woman now. I missed her quinceanera. I missed practically her whole childhood. I wasn't her father for almost her whole life. She must hate me now, and not want anything to do with me. I was a bad father, and a terrible husband, selfish and only thinking of music, not seeing what was most important, my family. So what's the point of trying to cross over? I failed them, and let them down big time. If I couldn't cross over last year, and the year before that, etc, what makes you think this could be any different? You go, and have a great time. I'll stay here doing whatever." Emilio shook his head.

"No, Hector." He said. "I can't let you do this. Where is that determined brother of mine? Where is that guy that I love, huh? You're not him. If you're staying behind this year, then so will I."

"What? No, Emilio, you have to go. They're our family! They're expecting you. I'll be fine like always, please, just go."

"But you're my family too, and families, they don't give up on each other. They support each other, and never give up when the going gets tough no matter what. So what if you can't cross over again? If you give up, you'll never know. You keep trying until a miracle happens."

"Sorry, Emilio. I'm not feeling it, and I don't think I ever will ever again." He sighed.

"Fine, then I'm staying with you." I groaned. "I'll see them again, we both will, when they come here, but who knows how long that'll take." I sighed.

"Fine; I'll go."

"Great, then what are we waiting for?"

We were next in line. I looked out at the many spirits crossing over, and succeeding, I wondered to myself. Could this be the year? Nah, then on second thought it could be. I won't know unless I try, right? Ah, what the heck! It might be crazy, but I'll do it; I'll try again for my brother and my family!

And so I walked on the bridge...and my feet started sinking. No, no, no! I fell down, and tried to paddle my way out again to no avail. I was hopelessly flailing like a fish again.

"Señor!" The agent called to me. "You have to go." But I didn't listen. "Señor!

Don't make me get security." She sighed, and got her security.

Two muscular looking skeletons picked me up.

_"No, no!"_ I screamed. "Put me down! I have to see my family." But they didn't put me down, and started dragging me away. "NOOOOOOOOO!"

Suddenly, I lost control of myself, and began to fight them. They tried to calm me down.

But the next thing I did was punch one really hard where his nose would be, He looked at me, not believing what I just did. I didn't believe it ether. He then was mad, and I don't blame him. I would too.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, "I don't know what came over me." But it was too late. For the next thing I knew, I was in jail.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I felt so ashamed of myself. I really screwed up this time, both in my life, and in the afterlife. I never have been in jail before, and I never imagined being in one when I was dead. I thought the afterlife was like heaven, but despite all of the good things that have happened to me here, it doesn't feel like it, far from it.

Stupid rule! Dia de los Muertos traces back hundreds of years. How did the dead visit before photography was invented? By paintings and portraits? I honestly didn't know. I may have learned it from school or home or somewhere, but it was so long ago that I forgot.

I don't like to condone to violence. But I punched that guy; I did the crime, so I deserve the time. I try to keep my cool whenever someone pissed me of in the past, but it hasn't aways worked. But ever since I became a father, I became better at thinking before I act.

I imagine I might get fired over this, and I'll understand. I won't complain. If I do get fired from my job, I have to think of a new job while I'm here. I'll have a lot of time. I don't want to even think of it, but if it has to be, it has to be.

"Hector!" A guard said to me from the bars. "You have a visitor." I followed the guard to meet my visitor.

Once in the room, I saw Emilio sitting on a chair.

"You have ten minutes." The guard said, and left the room, closing the door behind him,

"I'm sorry, Emilio." I said to him. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to go home."

"I know, Hector." He said to me. "We all make mistakes. If I was you, being denied to cross over time and time again, I would've done the same thing if I had a family. It tells me that you love your family, and would do anything to see them again." I smiled at this, and then frowned, changing the subject.

"I need to get out of here, Emilio. I don't belong here, but I deserve it."

"No, you don't, Hector. Si, you messed up, but under good intentions. You're a good guy. You have enough money to get out of here?"

"Probably."

"Then get of here. Tell the guard that you'll post bail."

"I don't know."

"Aw, come on, Hector." I thought about this.

"Okay, I'll post bail after you leave."

"Good. Oh, and I told your boss on what happened." I frowned at this.

"Oh."

"But don't worry. If you explain everything, I'm sure he'll understand. I did talk to him about this being a misunderstanding, but you have to do the rest. I can't win and battle all of your battles."

"I understand, and I very much appreciate it. I'll take it from here. I'll talk to my boss when I get a chance." Emilio smiled.

"I know you will, Hector."

After ten minutes were up, I did what Emilio wanted. I posted bail.

"Gracias!" The head officer said when I gave him the money. "And thank you for clearing this up. Luckily, you don't have to go to court over this. However, just because you want to see your family, and things don't go your way, that doesn't give you an excuse for what you did."

"I know, and don't worry, it won't happen again."

"Good. Gosh, I can't imagine having to go though what you are going though."

"Thanks." I'm kind of getting tired of hearing people pitying me all the time when I tell them my sob story.

"Well, I'm going to see my family now. Try to enjoy the rest of the holiday, and don't get into anymore trouble."

"I'll try, and I won't get into anymore trouble. Adios!"

"Adios!" And with that, I left the police station, and headed towards the bus stop.

I didn't get fired from my job. Carlos was really cool about it. However, he did warn me that if I land in jail again, that is when I was going to be terminated. He said that it would look bad if he has a employee with a criminal background working for him. I promised that he had nothing to fear, and went right to work.

"Hector!" Emilio said as soon as I came home that night. "Look whose here." I turned around, and couldn't believe it. It was my father.

"PAPA!" I shouted. I was so happy that I ran up, and hugged him on the spot. Now I can finally get some answers!

"Hey, hijo." He greeted. "It's been a long time. So, this is where you've been to after all of these years."

"Si. I have so many questions. How's Mama? How's Coco? How's Imelda? How's life after I died, and before you died? How did you guys find out about my death? How did you die? Did Imelda ever..."

"Whoa, slow down. One thing at a time." I withdrew from him. Now, before we get into anything else, I have to know. Were you coming home when you died due to homesickness?" I could see that he was now serious, so I got serious too.

"Si. I was."

"Emilio told me because I was hesitant of seeing you."

"You were; why?"

"Imelda, she hates you now. She banned music from her life, from Coco's, and convinced the family to do the same. She thinks you have chosen music over family."

"That's not true. Yes, I messed up big time, and shouldn't have gone to begin with. But that's why I was trying to come home, but I died of food poisoning on the way to the train station. I never got the chance to say that I was sorry, and she was right. Family comes first. Family always comes first before anything else."

"They never found your body." I was shocked about this.

"What? But that's insane! Ernesto was with me. Didn't he say anything?"

"He never came home, either." Now I was even more confused.

"Did he die too? I haven't seen him here."

"No, he didn't die. He's been starring in some movies. My favorite one was El Camino A Casa. It was his first, and his finest. It came out a few years after you guys left. Do you guys have a movie theater here? Have you seen it?"

"No."

"You should. Man, it's good. The actors, the plot, everything! It won an award for best picture, and a few others; that's how good it is."

"Well, maybe I will when I get the chance." I changed the subject. "I'm glad that Ernesto's now a movie star, and is happy with life, but he should've told you that I was dead. Imelda might've understood. She would've still been mad, but at least she and Coco would've had closure on what happened. I wonder why..." I then thought of something, but dismissed it. No, he would never do that. "I wonder why he didn't come home, and told you guys."

"I wonder that too, hijo. I wish I could go back, and tell them what happened, that you're safe and sound in the Land of the Dead, but I can't. Maybe if they knew the truth, Imelda would ease up, and finally put up your photo."

"Imelda's an impossible woman; you know how she got."

"True, but anything's possible."

"Yeah, you're right on that." If anything's possible, then...no. Again, Ernesto wouldn't do that, could he? No, he said he'd move heaven and earth for me. Amigos help their amigos. I have to stop thinking of the worst of him, he would never do anything like that. I'm positive. Anything is possible, but anything but that.

"Imelda didn't want to find out where you and Ernesto went to, but I wanted to. Both your mother and I. Unfortunately, we never found out." He changed the subject. "Boy, good thing your mother's not here, otherwise you'll get the shoe." I chuckled at this.

"Yeah, good thing."

"So whenever she gets here, you better watch out."

"Thanks for the advise."

Like me, Emilio invited Papa to stay with us. I was overjoyed by this. Papa said he'd stay, but when Mama passes, he wants to move out with her. We agreed. We will be sad when Papa moves out, but like life on Earth, we have to enjoy his company while it lasts!

Until my papa started his new job, he, Emilio, and I did all sorts of activities together. We all went to a wrestling and futbol (soccer) game, drank in a cantina (thank goodness Gustav and his buddies weren't there. That'll be a major embarrassment too if they started their sophomoric behavior of teasing me again about how I died in front of Papa and Emilio.), saw temples, the pyramid, ancient civilizations, saw a museum, ate at restaurants, went on a hike in the jungle, and saw some street art. Nearly everything in Mexico is here in the Land of the Dead.

"Papa!" Emilio called as soon as he came home from work. "Hector! I'm home, and I bought cake!" We went to him, and indeed, in his hands was a cake container.

"What kind of cake is it?" Papa wanted to know.

"Banana Tres Leches Dessert Cake." Emilio answered.

"Yum! You know me so well!"

"Si, that and it was someone who got hired last month's birthday today, and she told me that I could take one home for you and Hector."

"Such a gentle soul." Emilio noticed my expression.

"Hector, what's wrong?"

"Today would've been Coco's 21st birthday. She's now my same age. Next year she would turn 22, a year older then me, her Papa. She's going to get older while I stay the same age."

"Hijo." Papa said to me, serious now. "I knew today was Coco's birthday. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to upset you."

"Me too." Emilio added. "If you want, you don't have to have a slice of cake."

"No, are you loco? Of course I want cake! Just because Coco and Imelda are preventing me from crossing over, I still love them with all of my crozon."

"We know you do." Papa stated. "We do too, and we always will no matter what."

"And plus," I added. "Who would deny cake?" They both smiled, and Papa wrapped his arm around me.

"That's my hijo!" Tres Leches was Coco's favorites, along with flans, enchiladas, sapodillas, churro bowls, and other Mexican goodies.

Minutes later, the three of us were sitting at a table having tequilas and slices of Tres Leches. We each said 'Salud' before drinking our tequilas, and began eating our desserts.

We were listening to the radio a few years later. The radio has channels from the living word, as well as this one. It's good to stay up to what's happening in the living world, as well as this one. We hear good news and bad news. The news can be still depressing as ever.

Then one day, my now dead friend, Ernesto sang a song on the radio, but not just any song, it was my song for Coco, word for word, it was Remember Me, only it was much livelier than mine.

"Isn't Remember Me a song you wrote for your daughter, Hector?" My father asked me.

"Si." I said. Why is he singing my song? I wrote it for Coco alone, not for the whole world.

"Maybe it's his own version." Emilio suggested as if reading my mind. "Maybe he's singing it to remember you, Hector. Such a generous friend."

"Yeah, maybe. But I wrote it for my little girl, not for the world. Ernesto knows this. I told him when we were on tour I didn't want to sing it for anyone else."

"Well, he obviously didn't listen for its on the radio. Maybe at least he'll credit you for the song."

"Yeah, maybe." But I was still kind of mad. I didn't give him permission, granted I was dead, but still! He had no right to!

"And that was Ernesto de la Cruz's hit when he was alive," The announcer said over the radio."Remember Me! And Ernesto's here in the studio with me right now." I stood up like a bolt.

"What?!" I snapped. "That was my song; that sneaky rat!" I folded my arms across my chest. "I don't want to hear any more. Turn off the radio."

"Hector." Papa warned. "Let's see what Ernesto has to say before you just accuse." I became calm.

"Fine." We all listened to the radio some more.

"First off," The announcer spoke again. "I'm really sorry you died tragically by being crushed by a bell at your last public performance."

"Thank you." Ernesto's voice said to him. "It was a shame to leave my fans so tragically like that, but as my song Remember Me states, my fans will remember me, remember my movies, and my legacy forever. It was almost like singing Remember Me as my last song was a sign from the universe that my short time on Earth was up, and I'll forever be thankful for that, and still will be as I continue living my dream, and doing what I love right here, in the Land of the Dead."

"Truer words have never been spoken."

"He's lying!" I spoke. "He should be ashamed of himself, singing my song that he wasn't suppose to sing, and claiming it as his own. I'm sorry, but, he deserved to be crushed by that bell. That's what I call karma." Okay, he didn't deserve it, nobody deserves to die, no matter what the vile and wicked deed they do/did, but he deserved something.

"Hector, please!" My father stated. "I'm trying to listen."

"Why you want to listen to this traitorous sleazeball is beyond me." My father hushed me yet again, so did Emilio. I don't know why, but I stayed to listen, but continued doing my childish sulking.

"What made you write Remember Me?" The announcer asked.

"Here comes your credit, Hector." Emilio said.

"I wrote it for my fans." Ernesto answered. "I want them to remember me. I love my fans, and my fans love me. My fans made me who I am. That and music of course. I don't know who I'd be without them."

"That's sweet. So, any plans on any future performances in the Land of the Dead?"

"I'll keep you and my other fans, and near future ones, posted."

"You do that, Ernesto. This is Fernando on Dead Radio. Adios, folks!" Papa turned off the radio.

"Do you believe me now?" I asked.

"We have always believed you, Hector." Emilio told me. "Somewhere down the road, Ernesto changed for the worst. I'm really sorry about how he betrayed you like this. I can't believe it."

"Did you two have a falling out while you two were on the road?" Papa questioned.

"We had an argument when I decided to leave." I admitted. "But it wasn't anything major. He eventually let it go, and offered me a toast of tequila shots. He also walked me to the train station, and you know the rest." Papa looked like he was about to add something when he saw Emilio shaking his head, so he didn't. I didn't know exactly what he was going to say, but it was probably for the best.

"Well, he still stole your song, Hector, and that is something I won't stand for."

"Me either." Emilio added. "Some day his fans, both old and new, will see what he's done, and they, just like us will not be pleased." I smiled.

"Thanks, guys. You're the best familia a fellow could ever ask for. He may have stolen my entire songbook, but thanks again." They smiled back.

"Of course, son." Papa stated. "Families support each other though thick and thin, no matter what." I smiled yet again. This is such a bittersweet moment that I couldn't help it. I was just so happy.

I finally saw Chicharron after all of these years. I couldn't believe it when I was assigned to serve him when he came to Carlos' Loco Tacos.

"Can I get your..." I looked at him and froze like I just saw the president of Mexico.

"Hola, Hector!" He greeted. "Long time no see!" I went back into reality, and beamed.

"I'll say; where have you been all of these years? Why haven't I seen you on the bus?"

"I moved."

"Moved where?"

"ShantyTown."

"ShantyTown? I haven't heard of it."

"You haven't heard of it?" I shook my head.

"It's where the forgotten spirits go to spend their last days or years."

"Last days or years? What are you talking about?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"I don't want to keep you from your work. Take my order, and maybe I'll tell you later." Once again, I snapped back into reality, and remembered what I was doing.

"Oh, right, sorry. What will you like to have?"

"So, you know him?" Carlos asked me as soon as I was done taking Cheech's order. I nodded, looking at him.

"He and I met on the bus years ago almost a year after I passed. One day, we had a fight. I wanted to apologize, but I haven't seen him since."

"I thought you knew him. That's why I sent you over to take his order." I was shocked at this.

"Wait, you?" He nodded. "H-how did you know?"

"When he came in, he pointed you out to me, and I thought you two should reunite after years of bing apart."

"Well, gracias. I really appreciate this."

"De nada."

I gave Chicharron his food.

"Here's your food." I announced, and put it on the table. I looked to see if anybody else wanted food. When I didn't see any tables that needed serving, I sat down across from him. "Okay, tell me more about this place."

"Why tell you when I can show you? When do you get off work?"

"8:00."

"Perfect. I can meet you outside after your shift, and I can take you to ShantyTown."

"As much as I want to, I don't want to worry Papa and Emilio."

"Wait, you're living with your Papa now?"

"Si. He just passed a few years ago. My Mama's still living though. Once she passes, he's going to move out, and live with her."

"I see. Well, you can either come with me now, and call to tell them on my phone at home, or we could do it tomorrow." I thought about this.

"Tomorrow might be best."

"Okay, I'll see you at eight tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Friday. On Friday and weekends, the restaurant closes an hour later."

"No problem. I'll see you at nine then."

"See you then." I left him to eat in peace.

At home, I told Papa and Emilio that I was going to be late coming home tomorrow. They both were fine with it like I knew they would.

"I was going to ask if you want to move there, Hector." Emilio stated. "Since that's where spirits who don't get to cross over goes to, but I felt that it would upset you, and you like living here anyways, so why bother?"

"You made the right call. I don't want to label myself, and I feel like living here has done me good. I like living here with you and Papa. I don't see myself moving, and leaving you alone. What kind of brother would I be? I already made that mistake in life, and I'm not going to do it again in the afterlife." He smiled.

"That's sweet, but I'll be fine either way, lonely but fine. If you ever change your mind, you know you have the option."

"Thanks, but no. I'm fine just where I am."

After work the next day, I met Chicharron outside of my workplace.

"Ready to go?" He asked. I nodded. "Then, what are we waiting for? Let's go." And so, we went to the bus stop, a different one then I'm used to.

"Welcome to ShantyTown, Hector." Chicharron announced as soon as we got off. I looked around. ShantyTown was a real shanty town. I looked at my friend.

"You live here?" Stupid question! He said he lives here, dummy! But as soon as the words left my mouth, I couldn't take them back. The damage was already done.

"Si, it may not look like much, but it's home. I made friends here. Down here we're all family, every single one of us. I belong here."

"That's nice and all, but you live here because you are being forgotten, Cheech. You all are. No one deserves that. Can I call you Cheech? It's shorter then to call you Chichcharron all the time."

"You may. I don't mind a nickname. But I'm not calling you 'Hec'

or 'Tor'."

"I wouldn't want you too. Just Hector is fine."

"Good, and you're right. A nice soul like me doesn't deserve to be forgotten. All the kind souls here don't, but sometimes that's how it is, and you can't stop it. It happens to everyone eventually, and it's no fun. But here I'm not alone. Here, I'm with my own kind, however sad it is."

"I still feel bad about you living here, but whatever, it's your makes you happy I guess." Cheech smiled at me.

"You darn tootin'! My house is just this way." I followed him,

As we walked, he greeted his many titos, tias, and cousins (Again, not his real relatives, but he's been around them long enough that it feels that way to him).

"Then I'm your Cousin Hector!" I declared. I then looked at him. "If you want me to be your cousin that is."

"I'd like that very much, Hector. Cousin Hector. I like that. Has a nice ring to it."

"Your darn tootin' it has a nice ring to it!" I noticed him looking at me. "Too much? Yeah, too much. Sorry."

"Well, this is the place." He announced once we were there. It was a little bungalow. We went inside. I looked around, and was impressed. There was a mini fridge, a hammock, and to my complete surprise a guitar. I pointed at it.

"You play?" He nodded.

"A little. I'm not a musician like you were, Hector. I like playing it when I'm feeling down. It soothes me."

"I agree. Music soothes the soul. You know I use to play it, and every instrument imaginable back when I was alive. Music and my family was my whole life until, well, you know."

"I know." He changed the subject. "So, any luck crossing over on Dia de los Muertos, and reuniting with your living family?" I grew sad again.

"No. Not even once since I last saw you."

"Oh, that's a shame."

"Si, it is. I was going to give up, but Emilio convinced me otherwise."

"Smart brother you have there. You don't want to be forgotten, then it's too late. You can never get back." This got me confused.

"Wait, what?"

"Aw, I said too much. I don't want you to worry about that now. Forget about it. Come, I'll give you a tour of this place." But my mind was still on what he said before.

"What do you mean too late?" He didn't answer. "Cheech, what do you mean by..." We then heard a knock at the door. Cheech went to answer it.

"Aw, hola Jose." He said to a skinny, hunched spirit.

"Hola, Chichcharron." He handed him a music box. "Here, I want you to have this before it's too late. You're right. It did lift my spirits."

"Gracias. I'm glad it helped, amigo." He was about to go off when something happened.

I don't know what it was. Jose just collapsed to his knees after a flicker of orange flickered though his body. Cheech ruched to his side, and aided him to the hammock.

"Here, amigo." He said. "For your comfort until you go." He smiled.

"Thanks, and who's your company?"

"I'm Hector." I stated, going over to him. He smiled.

"That's nice. I'm Jose."

"What was that flicker of orange going though your bones, Jose? Are you alright?"

"He's almost forgotten, Hector." Cheech answered for him. "He's fading away from this word." I looked at him.

"What? What the heck does that mean? What's happening?" But they ignored me. Cheech turned on the music box.

"Thanks for being my amigo all of these years, Jose."

"De nada." Jose thanked him.

Suddenly, all of Jose's bones glow bright orange again, then he turned to dust and blew away in the wind. Cheech looked sad, and took off his hat, and closed the music box, ceasing the music. I was confused by all of this. Why isn't Cheech telling me what just happened?

"Well, it finally happened." Cheech said. "He finally succumbed to the Final Death."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Final Death?" I questioned. "What's that? Wait, are you telling me that the dead can die again? I thought one was enough."

"It happens after every living relative who remembers their deceased relative dies, and the other dead person's story doesn't get passed on before the death. It happens all the time down here, and it's quite sad."

"I imagine. The first death is hard on the loved ones in the living world, and once their down here, when their love one dies again, they have to relive all of that pain? That's not right. It's downright depressing."

"I don't know what to say, Hector, except that I agree with you, and that's just how things work out here. Oh, and before you ask, nobody knows what happens to them when the Final Death happens."

"Well, some people on Earth wonders the same thing when the first death happens, so, it's understandable."

"Si, now you know what happens when you die the first death."

"Yeah. Maybe, they go to the Land of the Forgotten?"

"Maybe, if there is such a place, but who knows?" He changed the subject. "So, you still interested about that tour?"

"Oh, yes, most definitely."

"Then follow me, and stay close." So I followed Cheech out of the bungalow.

"We have many shacks in this community." Cheech began. "They go on for miles, and then we have special prisons for the spirits who had committed horrible acts in the Land of the Living. If you ask me, it's good that they're getting forgotten. If no one in the Living World wanted them, we spirits in the Land of the Dead sure as heck don't want them either."

"I get what you are saying, Cheech, but they were still human beings with families, and are now spirits with families. It's a shame that they have to be gone with so much hate."

"Well, if they didn't want to be hated, they shouldn't have done what they did in the Living World. They're a disgrace, and we're glad to see them go."

"Well, maybe some are misunderstood."

"Or maybe not. Are you going to argue with me on this?"

"No."

"Good."

"So, evil and twisted people like the one living German leader guy right now from the radio?"

"Yeah, but don't worry. He won't come here. Everyone here is from Mexico, from the Panteon Santa Cecilia." I sighed with relief.

"Good. Because I wouldn't want to meet a mass murderer, or a murderer in general. Those kind of people are very sick to commit that to other people, or someone else who's completely innocent."

"I agree with you 100% on that, mi amigo. But unfortunately, despite being hated, they're still remembered." I frowned. He had a point. I had to agree with him. We went on.

We were in front of an orphanage. I saw several kids playing on the outside playground, and smiled. I then frowned, remembering why they were here.

"Even kids are being forgotten?" I asked.

"Yep!" Cheech responded, "It's a cruel, cruel world we live in and lived in."

"Well at least they're having the time of their afterlives before it's too late." Cheech laughed at this.

"True, it's nice seeing kids being kids, so innocent."

"Yeah." A picture of a three-year-old Coco flashed into my mind. I wonder what the rest of her childhood was like. We then heard a kid's voice.

"Hey, Libertad!" A boy hollered. A girl looked at him, and groaned, obviously not wanting him to be here.

"You're not suppose to be here, Lazaro!" She spoke.

"So, are you almost forgotten?" He asked. Libertad was about to answer, when orange flickered though her body. She fell to the ground. The boy laughed.

"Yep; you're being forgotten all right! So, how does it feel to be forgotten, huh? Your parents not wanting you in life and the afterlife? That's sad! Fortunately, my parents love me." I was mad. The nerve of this kid! He had no right talking to her that way! Making fun of her because she was fading? What was wrong with this kid? "Sorry you never felt that love, and never will." That did it. I stormed up to him.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Leave her alone!" He saw me, and ran off, laughing. I looked at the poor girl.

"Are you alright?"

"Gracias, Señor." Libertad thanked me. "That creep's been coming here, taunting us for living here." I felt sorry for her. "Why don't my parents want me?" I was caught off guard with this question. She looked liked she might cry at any second. "My Papa left me before I was born, and I was taken away from Mama. I didn't like what she was doing to me. Why didn't my parents love me, Señor? Why?" I looked at her, sullenly not knowing what to say. She was asking a good question. How could parents not love their child? "Why, Señor?"

"I don't know, Libertad." I managed to say to her. "You're a very sweet girl that deserve to be loved." She smiled up at me.

"Libertad!" A woman ran up to her, hugged her, and picked her up. "Let's get you inside." With that, she walked away. I saw them leave.

"Come, Hector." I heard Cheech's voice. "Let's continue the tour." I agreed, and went after him.

"You were very good with that child." Cheech told me. "You were a good father; it shows."

"Yeah," I responded. "I was ecstatic when Imelda told me when she was expecting. I gritoed so loud that Imelda told me that all of Mexico could hear me." Cheech chucked.

"Oh, I believe it."

"When that boy was teasing her, my fatherly instincts kicked in. I had to help."

"Kids can be so cruel."

"Yes, but they can also be a real joy. You just need to teach them right from wrong, and love them with all of your might."

"I was never a father, but agree with you. Unfortunately, parents can do all they can, but their child can still grow up bad." I sighed, knowing he had a point.

"Si, a good parent can only hope." We resumed onwards.

"That building over there," Cheech continued, pointing to a nearby building. "Is the gymnasium." He pointed to two more buildings. "We also have a pool and a sauna."

"Cool, do you ever use them?" I questioned. He looked at me. "What?"

"Do I look like I do those activities?" I shrugged.

"I don't know? Maybe? I can see you using the sauna and hot tub. You do have a hot tub here, do you?"

"Si, we do."

"Well, if I move here, which I don't plan on anytime soon, because, I don't belong here, no offense..."

"No offense taken; just get to the point."

"I'll make sure you go to the gym every day. Excercise seems is important, Ceech."

"I'm not young like you, Hector."

"That's just it. You're the same age as when you died in 1899, so..."

"You remember the year I died in?"

"Yeah, it was the same year my wife was born in, so that makes it easier to remember. The point is, you've been the same age for over forty years, and will be possibly for eternity. If you don't excercise now because you're 'too old', when will you? You're not getting any younger or older."

"Hmmm, you got a point there."

"You darn tooten' I have a point." He glared at me.

"Don't say 'darn tooten', it doesn't suit you, and sounds weird when you say it."

"Sorry, but I do have a point."

"Then, I hope you never move here."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"Well, tour's done. You can go home now." He went back towards his house. I went after him.

"Wait, we're done?"

"Yeah, did you want more? Young people these days. Aways wanting more. Sorry, but there ain't no more. Check back here in a few years. We may have something to you liking, then again, maybe not."

I followed him inside his house because he said he might have something for me.

Once inside, he handed me a brochure.

"Here's something for you the next time you visit. It has everything that you can do here, what times, and what days." I looked through it, then at him.

"You think I'm coming back?"

"Well, I imagine you want to visit me."

"Oh, si, you are absolutely right I'm going to visit. Your family may be forgetting you, but not Cousin Hector. I'm always here for you!" I readied him to hug me.

"I'm not going to hug you. I'm not the hugging type." I let it go.

"Right, sorry."

"You can borrow anything you want."

"Anything?" He nodded.

"Yep. You name it. My fancy napkins, my mini-fridge, my lasso. It's yours."

"Even your femur?" He looked at me funny.

"Femur?! Why will you need my femur?!" I laughed.

"I'm kidding! That was a joke." He wasn't laughing. "A bad joke, but a joke. C'mon! We all have funny bones, so why aren't you laughing?" I sighed. "I'll be going now." And with that, I was off.

On the bus ride home, I looked at the brochure, and was amazed. For such a little community, there were sure a lot of things to do there.

The next day, the radio announced tickets for Ernesto's Sunrise Spectacular, a concert he is doing on Dia de Muertos, at you guessed it, sunrise. I groaned at the mere mention of my former best friend.

"You still mad at Ernesto huh, Hector?" My brother asked me. I looked at him.

"He stole my songs." I told him. "So, yeah, I'm still mad at him, and possibly will be for afterlife."

"I understand, hijo." Papa spoke. "If my friend stole my songs, I'll knock him to next week, and perhaps beyond."

"Did we ever tell the police about it?" Emilio wanted to know. "Because, I don't think we have."

"I don't think we have, ether." Papa looked at me. "Hector?" I shook my head.

"No, we haven't told them, and I feel like we shouldn't."

"Heck, yeah, we sho...wait, what? What do you mean? They deserve to know." He snapped his bony fingers. "We should announce it at the Sunrise Spectacular. Bring him to justice at his own concert, man, everyone will know, and hate him then."

"No." I disagreed. "They won't believe us. It's too late."

"What? They deserve to know, bro. What he did to you was unforgivable. It's like getting away with murder.'

"No. Getting away with murder is much worse, not that I was murdered, because I wasn't. Thank goodness I wasn't."

"I know, but..." He looked at Papa. "You think they should know, right, Papa?" Papa nodded. He looked back at me. "See?

"But we should tell them sooner whether then wait three months until the concert." Papa stated.

"Agreed. I miss how smart you were, Papa. But we should've let them know when we learned about Ernesto's thievery."

"Agreed. Better late then never is what I say." Emilio looked at me.

"Hector," He said to me. "You should tell them. After all, this was your life's work."

"I don... si, I'll tell them." That was a big fat lie. I still felt like he has too many fans, that no skeleton was going to believe it. I hated to lie, but I just told them to get off of my back. It's easier this way.

"You'll feel better after this, hijo." Papa told me. "Trust me, he won't get away with murder."

"He never did. Well, I don't know what happened after I died, and before he died, but I'm sure he never did. He may be wicked for stealing my songs, and claiming them as his own, and I hate him for that, but he knows better then to resort to murder."

I had just got to a table filled with skeletons when one of them held up a ticket to show it off to his friends. They all marveled at it.

"How did you get a ticket?" One of them wanted to know.

"I won it at the lottery." The ticket holder told them.

"Lucky!" Another skeleton piped up. "Do you even like Ernesto's music?"

"Of course I do, who doesn't? He's one of he most famous skeletons here in the Land of the Dead. I can recite all of his songs by memory."

"Then prove it. Sing one of his songs."

"Okay. What one?" His friend thought about this.

"Sing 'Remember Me'!" His other friend put in.

"Oh yeah, that's my absolute favorite!"

"Okay." The ticket holder was about to begin when I cleared my throat, both not wanting him to sing, and to get all of their orders in. I was killing two birds with one stone! They all looked at me.

"Ready to order?" I questioned.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" He looked at all of his friends who all nodded. He then looked at me as I readied my pen.

"What'll it be, fellows?"

As soon as I left after their orders were taken, Ticket Holder Guy started singing 'Remember Me.' I hesitated, I wanted to tell them that Ernesto, was a thief, and that was my song that he was singing, but I compose myself. Hector, no! You're working, don't make a scene. You're better then this. Just let him sing your song that that creep stole from you. With that, I went to serve my next customer.

The rest of the day all I heard were talks about Ernesto, how great he was, his Sunrise Spectacular, and spirits singing my songs. Whenever I thought I was going to lose it, I had a mini conference with myself to make myself better. It was hard, but I managed. I faked my smiles, and pulled though the day like nothing was wrong. I never thought that I could ever get tired of listening to my own songs.

"I don't know who this Ernesto guy is," My boss stated when we were cleaning tables at the end of the day. "But judging from everyone else, he seems like a swell guy. Perhaps I should consider getting a ticket, and seeing what all the loco kids are into these days. What do you say, Hector?" I just kept working, not saying anything, pretending that I didn't hear. "Hector; did you hear what I said? I said..."

"You do want you want." I just said.

"Okay, I will. Do you like his music?" Again, I pretended I didn't hear. "Hector? I asked if you..." I lost it. I dropped everything onto the floor, and looked at him, mad.

"You do want you want, okay?!" He looked scared at my sudden outbust.

"Hector, I..."

"No, I'm tired of hearing about him. He's not that great, but if you want to go to his estupido concert then be my guest. I won't stop you, but please, leave me out of it." He sighed.

"I see you hate him. I'm sorry, Hector. I won't mention him ever again." I felt bad.

"I'm sorry. I was mad, and took it out on you. You did nothing wrong. It's your opinion, and I won't judge you for it. Am I fired?"

"Well, thanks for apologizing, and, no, you aren't fired." I sighed with relief. It was the second time in my entire afterlife where I thought my career would end because of what I have done.

We cleaned down tables, and worked in silence after that. I still felt bad for what I did. How could I be so stupid?

I was leaving for the bus when a bony finger tapped me on the shoulder. I looked, and couldn't believe it. It was Ernesto's father.

Señor Cruz?" I asked, knowing very well it was him.

"Hola, Hector." He greeted. "In the fles...si, it is I. But please, call me Ricardo."

"Okay, what are you doing here?"

"I have to talk to you." I was shocked.

"Me?" He nodded.

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk to you about my son."

"He's here if you want to talk to him yourself."

"I know. I tried talking to him, several times in fact, but he doesn't want to talk to me." That made sense. In the living world, Ernesto's father worked a lot, so he wasn't really part of his son's life. His grandparents mainly took care of him. That's why he liked music so much. Music, me, and his grandparents were his real comforts when he was growing up. He hasn't told anyone this until he told me when I was fourteen, and he was seventeen. He told me his dad started working a lot more after his mom died soon after he was born. Poor Ernesto. Maybe that's why he wasn't a family man, and why he got in trouble a lot in school. I got in trouble once or twice too, but not as much as he had. I felt bad for him, but that's no excuse for what he had done to me.

"I want you to talk to him." He continued.

"Oh, I don't know."

"Please, Hector? He's your friend. He'll listen to you more then me. I don't know if he told you this, but we had a huge fight before you guys left." I was going to tell him that we weren't friends anymore, and I couldn't care less, but didn't.

"No, no, he didn't. What about?"

"I wanted to be in his life again as soon as he came back, but he refused. Said it was too late. The damage was already done. And he's right." He started to sob,. "He was right. This was my fault. I should've been there, but I wasn't. I wish I could take it all back, you know? I did love him deep down, but I put work before him, my one and only son." And once again, I felt bad. I know what it was like being too late to want to do things with your family. I wanted to help him, but talk to Ernesto? I don't know. Part of me wants to talk to him, and scold that jerk, but part of me doesn't. He wiped his eyes.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be. I understand." He looked at me.

"You do?" I nodded, and told him my story.

"I'm sorry, Hector." He said to me. "Truly I am. I can't believe my son would do that to you. But now you know that family's important." I nodded in agreement.

"More important then anything else." I agreed. He changed the subject.

"So, are you still going to confront him about it? You can also say that I love him, apologize for me, and that I never meant to hurt him. You can kill two birds with one stone."

"No offense, but I don't really want to talk to him,"

"And that's understandable. But please, por favor, try. If not for you, for me." I thought about this.

"I'll think about it." He smiled.

"Thanks, Hector. I hope you succeed, and if not, at least you tried your best. That's all I can ask for. I'll keep on trying too."

I was standing outside of Ernesto's incomplete mansion. Ricardo had told me where to go, so here I was. The builders weren't sure if Ernesto should move in until it was finished, but Ernesto insisted. It was huge, and by the looks of it, fancy. I was jealous. He must be pretty wealthy to live here.

He didn't deserve it. I did. If it was the other way around, I would be the one living here, not Ernesto. I would invite Coco and Imelda when they pass to live here with me, Of course, they don't have to, and I didn't need a mansion. I don't need fame, and all the glory. All I needed was my family by my side. That was good enough.

I could've been a somebody, but because of him, I was a nobody. And I think that is partly why I am being forgotten. And I was not okay with that.

Okay, Hector. I told myself. I know you don't want to do this, but this'll be good. Let all of that anger out, don't bottle it up. Remember, your family and Ricardo are counting on you. Don't let them down. And with that, I walked towards the huge building.

"Hey!" Shouted a security guard. "You can't go in there." I looked at him. "State your business."

"I need to speak to Ernesto." I told him.

"Your name?"

"Hector Rivera." He talked into his walke-talkie for a bit, and listened to Ernesto on the other side.

"Okay, I'll tell him." He looked back at me.

"Sorry, Ernesto doesn't know any Hector Riveras." I was shocked.

"What?! But, I was his best friend. You have to let me in!" He shrugged.

"Sorry, he doesn't want to see you. And if he doesn't want to see you, you're not getting in."

"But you don't understand, Ernesto, he..." Should I tell him, and expose Ernesto for what he truly was a, a backstabbing fraud?

"If you don't leave right now, I'll call the cops, and have you arrested." Well, I certainly didn't want that. I remembered what Carlos had said to me about what'll happen the next time I get locked up. I sighed, calming myself. It wasn't worth it.

"Fine; I'll leave." With that, I left.

Well, that was a bust. The next time, I'll see Ricardo, I'll have to tell him. He'll be muy disappointed, but hey, I can say that I tried my best just like he wanted. He'll just have to live with it. Just like I have to live with my living family not putting my photo up on the Ofrenda each year.

I told Emilio and Papa about it. They were pretty disappointed, but glad that I took the shot.

As Dia de Muertos approached, talks about Ernesto, and his Sunrise Spectacular were increasing every day. We even put in a radio that played my songs sung by Ernesto over and over. And just like the day with Ticket Holder Guy, I kept calm, and faked my mood to the customers, my boss, and everybody else.

Then on the day, after I tried and failed for the thousandth time (exaggerating), I visited Ceech in ShantyTown, and told him about it. He said what Emilio and Papa had told me, that I needed to tell the police, and/or maybe try again.

"I can't." I told him.

"You can't or you won't? Cause they're two separate things. You have to face your demons, Hector." He was right, of course. I can't deny that.

"What if they don't believe me?"

"Then you make them believe you."

"How do I do that?" He shrugged.

"Beats me. The point is, you can't let Ernesto win. You have to take the bull by the horns. Because if he wins, then you'll have to live like this your whole afterlife, and you don't want that, so you?"

"No. No I don't."

"Then show that no good what you're made of. Don't be a coward. Stand up for yourself."

"I will, thanks Cheech." And that wasn't a lie. I was really going to do it. "Oh, and Cheech?"

"Hmmm?"

"Before I forget again, I'm sorry about our fight before you moved to this terrib...this place." He was confused.

"We were fighting? I don't remember that. What about?"

"Well, it was about..."

"Ah, well, whatever it was, it was a long time ago, water under the bridge. I forgive you." I sighed in relief.

"Well, that's good."

"And if you follow through with exposing Ernesto, I'll consider going to the gym with you the next time you visit." I beamed.

"Sounds like a plan! I won't let you down!"

And so I walked up into the nearest police station, told them everything, and they believed me. Ernesto was arrested, I got his mansion, and Iived there with Papa, Emilio, invited Cheech, and soon after, Mama, Imelda, and Coco. Imelda forgave me, and I could finally cross for I was now remembered, loved, and respected. Afterlife was coming up Hector! The end.

That was a lie. I told them, that was the truth, but just as I feared, they were too big of fans to believe me. They just laughed in my face.

"It's the truth." I said to them. "I'm not making this up. I wouldn't lie to an officer, because I know that's a huge no-no." They stopped laughing, and became serious.

"Listen." Said one. "If you blab this to anyone else, and keep doing it, you're going to be in serious trouble."

"Even if it's the truth?"

"We both know it's not. Admit it. You're a fan just like us, and just want the attention."

"No, I..." He became serious again.

"Don't tell anyone, understand?"

"I feel like you're not being good police officers by telling me this. You're supposed to help me, and look into this."

"We are being good police officers. Don't tell us how to do our jobs, okay?! Do you want to be locked up?!"

"No, no, no, no.. I was just..." I sighed. I wasn't going to win, and didn't want to offend him any longer. "I'll take my leave." He sat back down on his chair.

"That's a good dead Mexican citizen."

"Yeah, yeah!" Did I say that out loud? Fortunately, none of the officers called me out on it, so I just let it go, and made my leave.

I told Emilio and Papa, and they were disappointed. They tried talking to the police too with the same result. After that, they never brought it up again.

In 1954, Frida Kahlo died. It was sad and happy at the same time. Sad because she left the Land of the Living at the age of 47, and happy because we have her now. And she died just a few days after her birthday just like me. Papa and I developed a love for her work here in the Land of the Dead.

Soon after, Mama died. And as Papa stated, he moved out with her. We were sad, but happy for Papa at the same time. We also confirmed my story with Mama (after she hit me with her shoe). She had a hard time believing it at first, but she came around.

Then one day, in the seventies, I saw...Imelda! She was just walking on the marigold street. I was so excited that I ran up to her. I wanted to see her, but she didn't want to see me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"IMELDA!" I cried. "IMELDA, IMELDA!" She stopped, looked at me, and continued going I was confused. Was she pretending not to see me? "IMELDA! IMELDA; IT'S ME, HECTOR, YOUR LOVING HUSBAND! IMELDA!" I couldn't believe it; she was pretending that she didn't see me! It was as if I was invisible to her! I caught up to her, and grabbed her arm. "Imelda, why are you..." I pulled her arm off. She looked at me, and gasped. I grinned nervously. "Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to do that." She was now angry, and made her other hand slap me hard on the cheekbone. She grabbed her detached arm, and put it back on. She was about to go when I ran in front of her. "Imelda, why are you..."

"Oh, can't you take a hint, Hector?!" She snapped. "I'm mad at you!" I frowned.

"Oh, Imelda, I know. And you have every right to be. I did an unfair thing to you and Coco. It was never my intention to hurt you two. You must believe that. I'm sorr..."

"Well you did. Where were you!?"

"Look, I swear, I didn't cheat on you or choose music..." She slapped me again.

"Don't give me those excuses, and don't say that awful M word to me! Why didn't you come home?!"

"Well, it's simple. I died. I tri..."

"No, duh! We're all dead, Hector. You're going to have to come up with a better excuse then that."

"I think dying is a pretty solid reason why someone doesn't come back, Imelda. Be reasonable. Don't think the wors..."

"I can think what I want to think! How could you, Hector?! You really hurt me and Coco."

"I know, and I'm sor..." She scoffed.

"You know, the first Christmas that you were gone, Coco didn't wish for toys, she wished for one thing, for her father to come home." I was touched by this.

"She asked Papa Noel for you each year. I had enough of it, so one day, I sat her down, and told her the truth."

"Well, that's funny because I wanted to come home as a..."

"Leave, Hector." I was shocked by this.

"But mi amour, if you just let me explain. I..."

"Leave! This is the first and last time I see you here. I wish to see you no more."

"But..."

"Please, Hector." She began to cry. "Just leave." I was about to comfort her when she ran off. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I ran after her.

"IMELDA, WAIT, I..." I gasped when a winged jaguar Alebrije landed in front of me. The beast gave a loud roar at me. I shielded myself, shaking all over. "N-nice kitty. N-nice Alebrije." Imelda ran to the beast's side, no longer sad. "Imelda, save me from this horrible beast. I..." To my surprise, she petted the animal. "Imelda?"

"Nice, Pepita." She said. She then glared at me. "This is Pepita, Hector. My Alebrije. Don't make me sic her on you because I will if I have to." A guy came up to us.

"Is this man bothering you, Señora?" He asked. I looked at him.

"No." I said to him. "I'm her husband."

"He's lying, and si, he is bothering me!" She told him. "We are divorced. I have no husband." I was even more shocked then before, not believing what Imelda just said.

"Imelda, no, I..." The man looked at me, not looking happy.

"I'm going to ask you to leave, Señor." He informed me.

"But, but, you don't understand. I..."

"If the Señora wants you to leave, you leave, capeech?!"

"I capeech, but I..."

"LEAVE!" I sighed, not wanting to protest any longer.

"Si, I'll leave."

"Good, and if I see you harassing her again, I'll call the cops." I wanted to say that I wasn't harassing her, but I didn't. I just did what he and Imelda said. I left sadly.

I got determined. I knew what to do. It might be loco, and I'll be a real fool if I fail, but I had to. My afterlife was sad with no one realizing Ernesto stole my songs, me being forgotten. and Imelda not wanting to see me. If I can correct one of those, my afterlife will no longer be as depressing. I can't make the living remember me since no alive person can come visit (that'll be a miracle if they can, then one of them can help me put up my photo, but that is wishful thinking and will never happen in a million years). It'll be hard, maybe impossible, for Imelda to forgive me. That just leaves me with just one thing, and it has me scared. I have to go on Dead Radio, and tell my fellow spirits about Ernesto. I know it'll be a long shot, and it probably won't work, but anything to shed some light on my miserable, depressing afterlife. Yeah, that's what I'll do. With that in my head, I went to the bus stop.

At home, I found Emilio...and Violeta. Emilio just gave her a drink from the fridge. He then saw me.

"Oh, hey, Hector!" He greeted. "Look who came to visit."

"Hola, Hector!" Violeta said to me.

"Hola, Violeta!" I said back. She then frowned.

"Emilio told me about how you died, and about your many attempts trying to visit the living world, and I'm so sorry. I can't imagine never visiting my family because they hated me. I can imagine it must be awful."

"It is pretty awful."

"He also told me about Ernesto's thievery."

"That was also awful. I trusted him, and he stabbed me in the back when I was dead no less, and couldn't do anything about it. But luckily, I have a plan that'll make my very tragic afterlife less tragic and depressing." This got them both interested.

"Oh, really? Tell me. Or I can leave if you want. I don't want to impose."

"No, no, you're not imposing anything. I can tell you."

So we all sat down. Emilio gave me a drink, and I told them the plan.

"Well," Violeta spoke once I was done. She stood up. "I have to go now. I hope your plan works, Hector. That jerk must pay to how he treated you after you died. He won't get away with this. If he wasn't already dead, I wish him to be."

"Oh, he can die again. Believe me; I've seen it, and it's not pretty."

After she left, Emilio told me what went down with Violeta's visit. Apparently, both her and her husband died in a horrible car crash.

We found the number to call Fernando of the Dead Radio in the Bone Yellow Pages. I called him, and was going to go on air with him in a week. I thanked him, and hung up. I was so excited!

I also told Cheech about it the next day. He wished me luck.

"I hope you're successful with your plan, Hector." My brother said that morning of my interview with Fernando. "I really do. It's about time spirits learn the truth."

"Thanks." I thanked him. "I hope so to."

I stood outside Dead Radio headquarters a week later. I was nervous. If I had a corozon, it would be beating in my ribcage right now.

Okay, Hector. I told myself. I know you're nervous, but relax. You waited a week, no, almost your whole afterlife to expose this backstabber. Do not under any circumstance screw this up. You got this. Give them your attention, and don't let go. With a deep breath, I walked into the building.

"I'm here for Fernando." I told the clerk behind the front desk. He looked at me.

"Aw, si, you must be Hector Rivera." He spoke. I nodded.

"Si, that would be me." He pointed at the door behind him.

Fernando's waiting for you. His office is through that door, and to the right."

"Gracias." With that, I walked to the door.

When I reached Fernando's door, I knocked on it, stood back, and waited. I was still pretty nervous. I have never done this before. What if I mess up? What if they don't believe me, and I turn into an idiot on national radio? I can't possibly do this, can I?

No, Hector. You can do this. You've gotten too far to quit now, Do it for Coco, for Imelda even though they don't care, and Coco doesn't have a clue. Do it for your entire familia. The door opened.

"Aw, you must be Hector." A short spirit said, He offered me to shake his hand. "I'm Fernando. Pleased to meet you." I shook his hand.

"Pleased to meet you too, and I know you're Fernando. Who else will be behind your door?"

"Good point." He shut his door, and locked it. We went onwards.

"So, nervous?"

"Si, I am."

"It's normal. I was nervous too when I first took the job as a radio host, both in the living and in the dead worlds."

"My Papa always say 'grab their attention, and don't let go.'

"Smart man."

"Si, he is."

"It's just around this corner here. And don't worry; this won't take long." We entered the door around the corner.

I never been in a recording studio in over fifty years, and was in awe. We both took our seats.

"Okay," Fernando began. "We're on in uno, dos, tres!" And with that, he pressed the 'on air' button as soon as the current song ended (and it wasn't one of my songs, thank goodness).

"Good morning my fellow Mexican spirits of the Land of the Dead!" He greeted into his mike. "How's death treating you? Pretty good I bet. I'm Fernando, and you're listening to Dead Radio! Today, I have a special guest claiming all of the songs from everybody's favorite musician, Ernesto da la Cruz were written by him, and Ernesto stole them, and made them his own after this guy's tragic death. Please welcome, Hector Rivera!"

"Hola, everybody!" I said into my mike. "Hola, hola, hola, hola, ho..." I saw Fernando's face, and stopped, but not before I finished "...la! I know that's too many holas, and I'm sorry. I'm just very friendly, it's in my nature, so I'll say it one last time. Hola, and I'm glad to be here!" What am I doing?! I didn't intend to be an idiot, but I apparently am. I wanted to die if I weren't already. Fernando talked into his mike again.

"Now Hector, tell me, and the listeners, about your story, and this song stealing

business."

"I'll be glad to, Fernando." And so I told him, and the listeners, everything.

"Well that's horrible." Fernando said when I was done.

"I know it is." I told him. "Everyone who I ever told my story has agreed, and said almost the same thing."

"That because it is terrible. Whoever disagrees has no soul. Someone like Ernesto." I laughed.

"Yeah."

"This is a lot to take in. Someone everyone idolized for decades turned out to be a fraud. And your daughter was only three when you left?"

"Si. She was far too young to be without her father."

"And you're 21?"

"Si again."

"So if I have this right that means you were 18 when you had her?" I shook my head.

Actualy, I was 17. She was born in January, and my birthday is November 30th. I died in early December, a few days after I turned 21."

"Gosh, so you and Imelda were really young when you had her."

"Well, it was the early 1900s,1918 to be more precise. People can have kids late in life, and people can have them early in life. As long as they're happy, and the kid is happy, healthy, and you all love each other deeply, that all that matters in the end."

"So, true. Gosh, I can't imagine ever leaving my kids that young."

"You were much smarter then I was. I wished I could turn back time."

"So, true. Your daughter's still in the living world I hope."

"Si, she is."

"You don't know what life she had?" I shook my head.

"No. I tried talking to Imelda, but she doesn't want anything to do with me. She thinks I abandoned them, so she banned music from their lives."

"Hold up, so when you didn't show up, she thought you abandoned her?"

"Yep."

"She just came to that conclusion, and nothing else, even after decades?"

"Yes."

"If you don't mind me saying, it sounds like Imelda's fault. She shouldn't have done that, and trusted you." He had a point I supposed, but it I was too ashamed with guilt to admit it. Plus, he's wrong. I knew how Imelda was. She begged me to stay with her and Coco, and I ignored both her and my little girl.

"It is my fault. Imelda was and still is very stubborn. She takes family very seriously, and when I left to her, it was like I didn't really respect her values. I disappointed her, Coco, my family, and Imelda's. I let them down. They were right to have done what they did. I don't deserve this afterlife, but I kind of do if you can understand what I'm saying."

"I think I do, but it's such a shame either way." I agreed with another nod, then remembered I was on the radio.

"Si."

"Anyways, despite you not being able to cross over, you still try to every Dia de los Muertos?"

"I'm still a part of their famila whether they like it or not."

"That's also very true. Well, I think that pretty much wraps up this interview. Thanks for being with us, Hector."

"Thanks for having me." We both shook hands.

"Well folks, you heard it here. The truth about Ernesto da la Cruz exposed. May he be arrested, and rot in prison for all eternity. And now, here's Ernes...Hector Rivera!" The interview was now over with. I sighed with relief, finally having that over with. I was proud of myself, and knew a lot of spirits were too.

"Well, Hector," Fernando said to me. "Gracias for coming to do this interview. I know it wasn't easy. It really took guts for what you did, standing up for yourself. And for that, I appreciate it. We're all going to see Ernesto in a whole new light. You must be so proud of yourself."

"De nada." I said back to him. "And I am proud of myself. It's like a whole new me, and it feels great."

"Well, you're welcome to come back to my show anytime."

"Thanks." With that, we both bid our farewells, and I left.

As soon as the whole Land of the Dead found out about Ernesto's misdeeds, they hated him, and locked him up. Me? I was loved, and moved into his enormous mansion. It wasn't all exactly how I wanted it, but it was good enough for me. The end.

Again, that's a lie. Unfortunately it got worse from there. A lot worse.

On the bus ride home, I heard Ernesto talking to Fernando on the radio. Wow; that was fast! Was he just waiting outside when my interview was done?

"Hector is confused." Ernesto told Fernando. What?! "He is not well. He is jealous because he died during his music career and I didn't. I feel bad for him. I'm sorry this led to him lying to all of you. I can guarantee, I wrote all of my songs 100%. I wouldn't lie to my fans." I stood up like a bolt, and looked at my fellow passengers.

"He's lying though his teeth, can't you tell?!" I snapped. "Don't tell me you all believe him, do you? I'm the one that should be loved and adored, not him. He's nothing but a sneaky dirty rat."

I was then kicked off of the bus. I had to walk the rest of the way to Emilio's.

"Hey," I overheard someone say to his friends at my job the day after my radio interview. "Did you hear the radio yesterday on Dead Radio with the Hector Rivera interview?"

"I sure did." Someone else at his table answered. "I recognize that name as a waiter who served me a few times here." He shrugged.

"Could be him. Could not be."

"It sure sounded like him." Spoke someone else.

"He may be in trouble then." I stopped dead in my tracks then, and listened, ignoring the fact that I had a job to do, and had to serve this food that I was carrying. I didn't care. I had to hear the rest of this.

"Why?"

"I don't believe him." The first skeleton said. What?! "I think he's just a wannabe musician that wanted attention. That is why he straight out lied to Fernando, just like what Ernesto said in his right after."

"Yeah, I think you're right." His friends agreed. "Poor guy. I don't know to hate him or feel sorry for him."

"Well, I don't feel sorry for him. He attacked Ernesto's reputation, and I won't stand for it. He should be fired and in prison." Again, his friends agreed.

I was about to march over to yell at them when the guy who had ordered the food that I was carrying cleared his throat, clearly impatient having to wait for his food.

"I'm hungry!" He said. "And this is my lunch break. I only have fifteen minutes left!"

"Sorry." I said and walked to his table. "Here you go. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"You should be! Say, you're not Hector Rivera, are you?"

"Uh..." Should I lie to him in case he heard the radio, and didn't believe my interview too? I was going to hide my nametag, but he saw it anyways.

"You are aren't you? You know, you shouldn't have lied. You really made a fool out of yourself. I don't want you as my waiter." What?! Is this guy serious? He looked at me again. "But give me my food. I'm starving!" I didn't want to, but continued to serve him.

The rest of the day went by just the same. Apparently, everybody had listened to my interview on the radio, and Ernestos's, and they all didn't believe me. I just couldn't believe it. Had they all been brainwashed by listening to Ernesto all of these years? I couldn't come up with any other explanation, so that must be it. I didn't even want to be in a TV, or anymore interviews. I was donewith them.

They say that 'the customer is always right.' Not today. Today, they're wrong, Every single one of them.

"Hector, can I see you?" Carlos asked me when work was done for the day. I went to him, dreading this.

"Please tell me this isn't about the interview." I said.

"It is." I groaned.

"Let me guess. You don't believe it either. All of you are brainwash I tell you, every single one of you."

"Well, I don't know who to believe, But I do know this, Hector. I know you're a good guy, and won't do this just to get attention."

"Oh, thanks, That's so good to hear."

"I'm not mad at you, and you can keep working here, just don't overreact on what rumors you might hear."

"I'll try not to."

"Thanks. You may be dismissed." We both bid our adioses, and I left.

I told Cheech what happened, and how I felt about it.

"Well, that's a bummer, Hector." He said. "I'm sorry, truly I am."

"Thanks." My eyes began to well up with tears. I didn't mean them too, they just came.

"Are you crying?" I wiped away my tears. I thought about lying to him, but what was the point? He could already see me blubbering like a baby.

"I hate my afterlife."

"I know you do. I'll hate it too if I were you."

"I feel like I tried everything, but no matter what I try, it fails miserably every time. I was a nice guy who never hurt anyone. I don't deserve this. I never did."

"I know. No kind soul does." He then stood up, and walked off. I was confused as I looked up.

"W-where are you going?" He picked up his guitar, and sat in his hammock.

"This song is my favorite. It always cheers me up when I'm down, so I figure, why not you?" I listened as he began strumming it, and then sang in a smooth voice.

"That was beautiful, Cheech." I told him when he was finished, wiping away another tear, only this was a joyful one. He stood up to put his guitar away.

"Thanks. It's called 'Everyone knows Juanita'. Do you feel better?"

"A little." He smiled.

"But you know, I was shocked at some of the lyrics." He was confused at first, then got it.

"That's just the parent in you."

"I know."

"What would you change them too?" I shrugged.

"I don't know. Something to make it more kid-friendly."

"Well, we're both adults here. But if you sing this in front of a kid, you can change it all you want. But not me. I like it just the way it is."

"Okay. Say, Cheech?"

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking about it, and I want to move here." He was shocked.

"I suppose I'm going to the gym a lot more now, huh?" I smiled.

"Si, but that's not the reason I want to move here. I like this place, despite why this place exists in the first place. I like you, and everyone is so nice here. I feel like my second family is here, and I want to be closer to all of them."

"I thought you said you didn't belong here."

"I did, but I do now. If this place will have me that is."

"Of course you can stay here. But what about Emilio?"

"He'll be fine. He told me years ago."

"When do you think you'll move in?"

"As soon as I can."

I told Emilio my plan to move to ShantyTown.

"That's great, Hector!" He complimented. "You do whatever you feel like." I smiled, then frowned.

"Will you still be okay with it?" I wanted to know.

"Si, I'll be lonely without someone else here, but I'll manage." I smiled again.

"I know you will. I'll miss you too. I'm going to go back there tomorrow to look for a house."

The next day, I went back to ShantyTown to start looking at houses. They had no houses for me, so they were going to build me one. The estate agent said that my new house will be ready to live in in six months. So I said 'Gracias', and went back to my current house.

When I got home, I gave Emilio my six month notice. He vowed that he was going to make the next six months the most enjoyable ones of my entire afterlife. I told him he didn't need to, and that I was going to come back to visit, but he insisted.

One day, I was taking a stroll when I heard music coming from a nearby building. I looked, and decided to investigate. I went over to the source.

I looked though the windows, and couldn't believe it. Inside was Ernesto. He was singing, and strumming his guitar.

I then grew mad. This was his fault! If he had told people and spirits about my music, I wouldn't be getting forgotten, and I wouldn't be living the afterlife I do now. It would've all been different. I thought Ernesto was cool with me with just giving up, and going back to my family with my music. But no, he had to literally pry my music away from my dead body. He used me. I trusted him, and he betrayed me.

I was about to barge right in, and give him what for when someone spoke up.

"Hey, Chorizo!" Oh no! I looked, and sure enough there was Gustav, and his friends. "Long time no see."

"Por forvor." I said to him. "I like to be left alone." But he continued.

"Chorizo,"

"I have a name, and it's not Chorizo, it's Hector."

"Right, so anyway Chorizo, I like for you to meet my twin brother, Gustavo." I looked at the spirit beside him. Indeed, it was a splitting image of him.

"Cool, so anyways, I got..."

"Mateo, the bartender from when we met, has a twin brother too. His name is Matias."

"Fanstasico, now if you don't mind, I got a bone to pick with Ernesto da la Cruz, so I don't have time for your bullying today."

"Wow! We never heard that joke before. Does it have to do with your and Fernando's radio interview?"

"Si, now, go and mind your own business elsewhere. What are you all doing here anyways?"

"We come here to practice for Ernesto's Sunrise Spectacular." I was confused.

"But isn't that months away?"

"It's never too early to practice. Practice makes perfecto, mi amigo. Luckily, we get to practice in the same place as Ernesto and Frida Kahlo." That got my attention.

"Frida rehearses here too?" He nodded.

"Oh yeah, ever since she died, she had opened the show with an amazing performance each year. I wonder what she'll do this year."

"Yeah, me too." I then changed the subject. "So, I'm going to pick Ernesto's bone now."

"I don't think that's a wise decision. I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Yeah, well, you're not me. You don't fully understand Ernesto like I do." I walked off.

"Ernesto!" I shouted to him going into the room he was rehearsing at. A security guard came into view, blocking my path.

"You can't go in there." He said.

"I have to." I told him. "I need a word with him." He blocked my path again.

"Hey, I know you. You tried to come into Ernesto's mansion. You're Hector Rivera."

"Yeah? What about it?" I then took one good look at him, and instantly recognized him. Indeed, he was the security guard that I met at the mansion.

"You couldn't talk to him then, and you still can't talk to him now. Ever since you backstabbed him on that interview with Fernando, Ernesto got outraged. I'm afraid you're have to leave."

"Well. I'm not. He backstabbed me when he stole my songs!"

"Yes, you will leave."

"No, I'm not."

"Do you want me to call the cops on you?" I folded my arms across my chest.

"Go ahead. I don't care."

"Okay, I will. Suit yourself."

The police came, and took me away. Fortunately, I only spent the night in jail.

Unfortunately, I got fired from my job. I was devastated when my boss told me. I had this job for over fifty years. Now with nearly all of the Land of the Dead hating me, I don't think I'll get another job anytime soon.

Months after, a few days before my big move, and the day before Dia de los Muetos, I passed by a clothing store. I would've skipped passed it, but something caught my eye. I ran back to the window, and pressed my face to it. It was a row of Frida Kahlo costumes.

Wow, since Frida's famous, her photos must be on hundreds of Ofrendas. This got me an idea, so I went inside.

I searched for one in my size, grabbed one, and tried it on.

I was amazed when I was done, and looked in the mirror. I looked just like Frida!

Next, I tried impersonating her voice.

"I'm Frida Kahlo!" I talked to my reflection. "Some of my works are inspired by Mexican artifacts and nature. I was disabled when I was a young child." I repeated this over and over in different high pitched voices, seeing which one I liked better, From the mirror, I could see skeletons staring weirdly at me. I turned to all of them. "Sorr..." I went back to my normal voice. "Sorry." I took off the costume, and went to the front desk.

"I want this Frida Kahlo costume, por forvor." I told the cashier as I plunked down the right amount of pesos. The cashier took the costume, and the pesos.

"You want this in a bag?" She wanted to know.

"Yes, please." After she put the spent money away, she took out a bag, and put the costume into it. She gave the bag to me, and my change.

"Here you go, Señor."

"Gracias."

"Have a nice day"

"I will. Adios!" I left the store.

At ShantyTown, I showed off Cheech my new costume.

"So, what do you think?" I asked him in the costume. I then talked with my Frida impression. "Pretty convincing, huh? It is, I, Frida Kahlo, no?"

"Well, your voice needs work." I was disappointed.

"Aw, come on! I thought I was doing a bang-up job." I talked in my normal voice again. "You try impersonating her voice."

"No, thank you, I'm good."

"Well, this costume will help me cross the bridge. I guarantee it."

"If you're sure. What if you cross paths with the real Frida as you're trying to cross?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, literally." He sighed.

"Whatever you say."

And just as I said, I tried crossing the bridge with the costume on, and yes, I failed miserably.

I kept trying year after year, and some new tactics like me stuffing myself in a lady's purse, me holding on the back of a abreije, me throwing Cheech's femur for an abreije to catch (he ate the femur so Cheech will not be happy with that. I decided not to tell him), and other stuff that often times landed me in jail. One time like Chech said, I crossed paths with the real Frida Kahlo (that was awkward). They may be illegal, but hey, a desperate guy like me will do anything to cross over!

I also tried again, and again to connect with Imelda, again, with no luck. She sic Pepita on me a lot. And I try to talk to Ernesto. Oftentimes I felt like I didn't want to talk to him, but felt like I had to. I needed to be heard.

Also, over the years, my clothes got torn, and my hair got into a mess.

It got so bad at one point that I had to go to the dentist. The good news on that is they had to put a gold cap on. So now I have a gold tooth. I felt so special!

The process of crossing over changed too. Now you have to stand though customs, and a machine will tell you when or when you can't cross over, so you don't have to cross the bridge right away, you'll know already and don't need to see yourself.

Also, the Living lets kid spirits go before us adults, because they believe that kids are so eager to visit, so they go a day early. So November 1st is for the deceased kids,, or fallen angels, and November 2nd is for the adults like me. I get jealous of them sometimes. That means the holiday last for three days, October 31st (Some kids celebrate Halloween in Mexico too)- November 2nd, but the last day is the main one.

Sometime after the new millennium, I lost my Frida costume. Now how was I going try to con my way over?

Fortunately, a nice lady, named Cecilia, Ceci for short, makes Frida costumes for Ernesto's shows, so she told me that I can borrow them whenever I wanted. Such a generous lady!

Unfortunately, I'm bad at returning stuff, or keep losing them. Whitch reminds me, I still have some of Cheech's good napkins he lent me for my 100th birthday party. I wonder what happened to those.

The radio said some more news, most of them depressing. There's a president elect in America that I don't like because of all the lies he's saying about Mexicans, blah, blah, blah, and that he wants to make a border to separate the two countries. Sorry to go all political, but it's true! Man, I can't stand that guy, and I think most Mexicans, and even a handful of Americans agree. I fear for America. Truely I do.

It is now 2017, and the morning of Dias de Muertos. I'm probably going to fail, but I'm going to try yet again with my Frida costume.

Coco's now 99, next year she would be 100, so she doesn't have a lot of time left, and I fear that I don't either. I'll fade away soon like Libertad, and Jose. I might not even last the night. I haven't began to fade yet, but I can feel it in my bones,

So Coco, please, if you can hear this, your father is begging you, por forvor, recuerdame, for gosh sakes, remember me.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

I was sitting impatiently in my seat of the Department of Family Reunions building. Sitting by me was my wife, Julio, Oscar, Felipe, Rosita, and Victoria. We were all excited, because we just got the call that Coco has just passed, and she should be here any moment now.

"Excited?" Rosita asked me.

"Are you kidding?!" I asked back. "I'm ecstatic; I haven't seen my Coco in

96 years." I looked at my wife. "I mean, our Coco." She smiled. Rosita smiled too.

"You deserve it, after all that happened to you."

"Yeah."

"Here she comes!" Julio announced. We all saw a little elderly skeleton race in. Was this my Coco? She was a toddler when I left, so it was hard to face that little face to this grown woman.

"Papa?" She questioned, looking around. "Papa? Its me, Coco. Remember me?" I beamed as Imelda patted me. It was truly her!

"Go to her." She said. I beamed, and raced to her before Julio could,

"COCO; COCO; COCO!" Coco turned around, and a smile lit up her face. She raced to me as well.

"PAPA!" We each embraced in a giant hug. We withdrew after a hug that seemed to last a lifetime.

"I promise, Coco. I will never leave you and your Mama ever again." I then noticed Julio. "Oh, that is unless you want to live with your husband." Coco looked at Julio as well.

"You should live with your parents." Julio said to her. "You and your father have a lot to catch up on." Coco smiled back.

"Si, we do." She agreed. "Thanks for understanding."

"You can live in the mansion if you all like." I suggested. I looked at Imelda who gave me a nod of approval so I continued. "Since Ernesto is spending eternity in prison for his crimes, they offered the mansion, and Imelda and I accepted." I looked at everyone else. "You all can if you all want." Again I looked, and again, Imelda gave me the nod of approval. "Si, you all can." Everyone cheered at that, and said they'll all move in as soon as possible. Coco looked at me. She then frowned. I was concerned.

"Coco?" I questioned. "What is it? If a mansion's too much, you don't have too. We can move out. We don't need to live there."

"It's not that." She shook her head.

"Then what is it?"

"Miguel told us about Ernesto, and what he did to you, Papa. That's why you couldn't come home, wasn't it?" I frowned. I was glad that Miguel had told her, but it must have shattered her heart to learn the cold-hearted truth.

"Si. It's true."

"I forgive you. You were just trying to come home, set things right. You were always my hero. I was never mad at you. I knew something had gone terribly wrong." I was really moved by this, wiped away my tears of joy, and gave her one last big hug.

"You make me so proud of you, Coco. My dear, sweet, Coco. I love you."

"I love you too, Papa."

After another minute, Imelda cleared her throat. We stopped, and I stepped back to let Imelda and the others hug my daughter.

As soon as the hugs were over, Coco took my hand, and I took her's. We then all walked out of the building as one dead, but happy family.

Julio's right. We do have a lot to catch up on. I can't wait to tell Coco about my afterlife, and Coco to tell me my son-in-law and about her long filled happy life, and this time I'm happy to say it's the truth and the real finito of my tale.


End file.
